


Listen Up

by sleepysailors



Series: Hear Me Out [1]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Ableist Language, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Blood, Canon Era, Deaf Character, Deaf Racetrack Higgins, F/M, Fist Fights, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I Have Lost Control of These Characters, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Procedures, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Period-Typical Homophobia, Poor Life Choices, Sickfic, Swearing, first fic, poor race
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 20:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 77,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14755976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepysailors/pseuds/sleepysailors
Summary: This is the story of how I became deaf. I decided to project it onto the newsies.





	1. Chapter One

“Haha!” Race whooped “Would ya look at that another full house gentlemen pass me my winnings if you please” he dragged his arm across the table collecting the lot from the center of the game.  
“That’s six in a row” Itey groaned frisbeeing his cards across the table at Race.

  
“Spot he’s cheatin us” Bumlets complained crossing his arms and slumping his head on top of them.

  
Hot Shot walked to the other side of the table picking up Race’s cards and the deck. “Yous countin cards aren’t you!” He bent the deck of cards back and let them go so they flew at the chuckling blond boy one by one as he scooped up his earnings.

  
“Not my fault you’re dumb enough to play me every week. I’s the best.”

  
Saturday night was game night in the Brooklyn lodging house. Race always picked up 50 extra papes before making his 3 hour trek to the Sheepshead Races so he could afford to gamble it away that evening. Race got ready to head back home, pockets heavy with pennies and his paper bag empty he headed for the door as thunder crashed.

  
The wind was whipping as the rain lashed down. “You can always spend the night here we’s got extra bunks?” Spot offered “Kelly won’t mind ‘sides you’ll catch your death out there.”

  
“I’ll catch my death in here if they figured out I cheated tonight.” Race whispered covering the side of his mouth with his hand. ”I ain’t been sick in ages a lil rain ‘ll do me good. Thanks though short stuff.”

  
In one calculated move he patted Spot on the head, dashed out the door, down the stoop and into the down pour before Spot could land a proper punch. Race spun on his heels sticking his tongue out playfully at the Brooklyn boy as he slammed the door shaking his head with a laugh.

  
The walk from Poplar Street to Duane wasn’t more than 2 miles but with the heavy rain and head wind it turned a half an hour walk into a 90 minute one. Soaked to the bone and freezing he wished he’d taken Spot up on the offer half way across the Brooklyn Bridge. No use heading back now he thought and he pressed on.

  
At 9 pm the curfew bell rang and he cursed under his breath, good news was no one would be looking for wayward kids in this weather, bad news was the lodging house door would be locked. Race shimmied up the fire escape, climbed to the 4th floor bunk room, he knocked on the window and when Albert opened it for him, came tumbling through. He got dried off as quickly as possible and after getting an earful from Jack he went to bed.

  
The morning bell rang too early for any of their likings on Sunday. Racer’s head felt too heavy and his bed was too warm to get out of just yet. He decided to neglect his morning duty of shaking the late risers out of their beds. Crutchie would pick up his slack he was far nicer about it anyways. He’d go bed to bed knocking on the foot of the bed gently calling out the boys name, where as Race had a different approach. Racer would tear through all four bunk rooms pulling off blankets, and screaming what ever came to mind some mornings it was songs some days it was obscenities, it really depended on what he thought was fitting for the day ahead. They were all thankful for the rare days that Crutchie took this job. He made his way to Race’s bunk and knocked gently.  
“Racer? Bud it’s time to get up.”

  
The lanky boy rolled over and pulled his blanket over his head grumbling complaints about 5 more minutes. Crutchie thankfully obliged. Racer was the last one out of bed. He moved mechanically his head was still far to heavy like he was hungover without any of the fun of drinking.

  
By the time he made it to the church the nuns were out of food, he brushed it off and bought his papers. He’d worked without food in the past skipping one meal couldn’t hurt. Jack was chatting with a group of littles and spotted him across the square, with a quick wave of “come here”. Race dragged himself across the square and plastered an overly chipper smile on his face.  
“What’s goin on Jackie? We got some new recruits?” Race said clapping his hands once looking at the little ones. They couldn’t be more than 5 or 6 years old. They were small to start with but the adult sized clothes that hung on thier tiny frames dwarfed them even further.

  
“Yeah we’s got Tommy, Jesse and Frankie” Jack patted the top of each kids head as they said their name. The three clung together in a pack though it was clear none of them could be related. “Imma need you to pair up with Jesse here, show him the ropes a bit maybe keep him out a trouble. Uh show hims around Hattan he needs ta learn these streets. Just got in a few days ago he says ”  
Race hated staying in the city especially since Sunday was his and Spots day to grab lunch by the docks together but he agreed to it for the sake of the kid.

  
Jesse was the littlest of the group he didn’t even come up to Racers hip. He was pale as can be with a million freckles across his filthy face. His bright red hair stuck out from under his cap at odd angles and green eyes that were sunken from hunger and lack of sleep, Race thought he was the definition of the word “ragamuffin”. Jesse, with his eyes still fixed on the ground, stepped forwards timorously closing the distance between him and Racer. He stood next to the older boy and was properly introduced with a spit shake.

  
“Thanks Race you kids have fun now!” Jack called after them as the pair headed to the streets. As soon as they got to the end of the square to cross the street Jesse put his ravioli sized, right hand in Racer’s left one to hold it. He looked down at his new charge with small grin and held his tiny hand throughout the rest of the day. He taught the little one everything he knew about being a newsie. The day dragged on for Race, he couldn’t tell if it was from his persistent headache, or his new protege, or the fact the headline stunk. As scared as Jesse was at first, come lunch rush the little one came out of his shell and bombarded his mentor with an onslaught of questions every few seconds he’d pipe up with a “Mista Racetrack? Can I asks you somethin?” He asked about everything from why the sky was blue to where babies came from. It went on all day until Jesse sat down for just a second and promptly fell asleep at Race’s feet. He was relieved by the moments peace, checking his bag he counted 10 papers left with a few lies and a little luck he sold them in less than 20 minutes. Race sat down next to the sleeping boy to collect his thoughts all he knew was he felt like death. His head pounded his stomach churned every joint ached he promptly decided that he was getting too old to wrangle the littles and that that is why he was so off today.

  
Jesse still lay asleep on the corner they were selling on on Lafyette and Worth Street. Race shook him once but he was tuckered out he scooped up the boy and carried him back to the lodging house thanking what ever God there was that they were only 2 blocks away. For as scrawny as Jesse was he felt heavy in Race’s arms, too heavy. Upon their return Race laid the boy on one of the couches in the parlor and made short work of his “hellos” to his friends. A high stakes game of poker was starting in the dining room with a dime in. Race wished he could play, he had the money, he had the time he was just so damn tired. His sad “maybe next time” excuse was greeted with friendly jeers from the 4 boys at the table. He slunk off to bed by 6pm after stuffing a few slices of bread in his mouth hoping this headache would be gone in the morning.

  
Racer’s bed was in the front corner of the largest bunk room furthest from the windows in the darkest corner. He always claimed the top bunk saying it was his favorite in reality he just liked being able to jump from the top of it to wake up the entire bunk room with a satisfying crash in the mornings. He didn’t hear the rest of the boys as they filed in for the night hours after he had fallen asleep. Elmer peaked at the sleeping boy before climbing into the bottom bunk under him. Race’s blond curls were soaked with sweat and stuck to his forehead he shivered even under two blankets and his skin was waxy pale.

  
Elmer tapped the sleeping boys shoulder with a barely audible “Hey Race you alright?”

  
His bright blue eyes snapped open and darted around wildly it took a second for him to realize he was safe at ‘home’ and not stuck in one of his nightmares. “I’s sleepin here” he mumbled as he rolled over and fell back to a restless sleep. Elmer shrugged it off and crawled into his bunk.

  
Crutchie took his time getting readying himself in the morning but he soon noted the lack of ruckus coming from inside the bunk rooms. He made his way down the fire escape and through the window to begin waking the late risers again. He was a little annoyed at Race for shirking his responsibilities again. He didn’t mind picking up the slack occasionally but never two days in a row. By the time he made it to Race and Elmer’s bunk the the room was buzzing with noise. He tapped his crutch 3 times at the foot of Race’s bed, Elmer was already up and chasing Finch with a towel rolled up in a rat tail ready to strike.

  
“Race? Hey pal morning bell rung yous getting up?” He didn’t stir once. Crutchie went towards his head his eyes were screwed tightly shut his skin was ghost white and he couldn’t stop shivering. Crutchie laid a hand to his friends sweat drenched forehead and the blue eyes shot open and grabbed his assailants wrist. “Hey hey hey it’s just me” Crutchie soothed patting his cheek wriggling his wrist out of Race’s death grip “you’re burning up you’s not selling today okay? You stay in bed and I’ll bring you somein to eat later yeah?”

  
Races eyes unfocused, with exhaustion and fever, closed down as he nodded his head to oblige.

  
Crutchie grabbed an extra blanket from a vacant bunk and draped it over his friend. “Wait” He croaked from his blanket cocoon “I told Jesse I’d buy him lunch today. Take care of the little paddy for me would ya?” He reached under his pillow and pulled out a nickel and flicked it towards Crutchie.

  
“Of course, you just rest up I’ll see yous tonight.”

  
His whole body ached his head was glued to the pillow all morning, around noon he heard the bustle of the streets the below and decided to make his way to the kitchen for something to eat. His knees shook as he dragged himself to the wooden stairs that seemed impossibly long. He made his way down them slowly halfway to the bottom his legs gave out and he went tumbling down the last 10. Groaning he decided to just stay on the floor he curled up at the base of the stairs and shivered violently until he fell asleep. Around 6 pm the newsies began filing back in for the night. He was rudely awaken by a rough shake of his shoulders.

“Jesus Race you haven’t been here all day have ya?” Jacks voice was full of worry. Race shook his head.

  
“Nah I’ve just been waitin for your ugly mug.” He called back Jack took his hand and pulled him up onto his feet.

  
“You look like hell man.” He commented as Race stumbled forward like a baby horse

  
“You think this is bad should look in the mirror some time.” He quipped back holding onto the wall for support.

  
“Come on back to bed with ya smart ass.” Jack walked up the steps behind the teetering Race ready to catch him if he fell back as he did with Crutchie when he was particularly unstable.

  
Jack pulled back the small collection of thin blankets on the top bunk and heaved Race onto the bed after watching as he tried in vain to climb in on his own. He let out a pained sob as he laid himself back down. He just wanted some food and he wasn’t even strong enough to make it to the kitchens.

  
Jack pressed a hand to his forehead he was burning up. “Race I can check the slush fund do yous need a doc?”

  
He shook his head and closed his eyes with an “it’s just a cold I’ll be fine”

  
It went on like this for days. Racer insisting he was better off than he was. Jack Crutchie and Elmer taking turning picking him up food from what ever deli they came across in midtown. Coming home to find him wherever he managed to drag himself that day. Then one of them all but carrying the boy back to his bed. They eventually decided to stick him in a bottom bunk.

  
On Saturday the delirium set in. Jack and Crutchie picked up fresh bread and soup after a great day of selling the best headline they’d seen in months. They came back around 3 and went to check on their sick friend. He was curled in a tight fetal position face twisted and arms hugging his body. Jack called his name from the bottom of the bed. “Hey pal we brought you something to eat” Crutchie sat on a the side of the thin mattress and gently placed a hand on Races shoulder.

  
The scream the boy let out could be heard for miles. In one motion he slapped the bowl of soup out of Crutchie’s hands into his lap, and jumped backwards to get away from his ‘attacker’. He fell off the side of the bed to the floor and clambered back wards until his back was against the wall. His blue eyes darted every which way clouded with fever. He curled his knees to his chest rocking himself as he began to hyperventilate.

  
Jack stooped next to him as he shook violently. “Race?” He gently called out “Racetrack? Buddy it’s Jack yous okay. Yous at the lodging house. Yous safe.”

  
Race buried his face in his knees as he continued to rock muttering to himself .“I’m sorry ‘m so sorry” it was barely more than a whisper. His eyes darted up to the soup soaked Crutchie who had moved himself to sit cross legged across from Race and jack giving them plenty of space. “I’s sorry sir I’s sorry don’t tell please ‘ll clean it up i’s sorry don’t tell.” He begged trying to catch his breath.

  
“Anthony, Tony, it’s Jack, come on man you know me. Yous not there. Yous safe hey come on man look at me.” His eyes were foggy and unfocused but he looked up from his knees at his friends. “Breathe, buddy” Jack prompted “In and out you’re fine just calm down” he tried to take a deep breath with Jack but instead was greeted with a thick coughing fit.  
“Racer!” Jack’s voice filled with worry “Racer breathe you idiot come on you’re okay. I’m going to touch you is that okay?”

  
Race nodded vehemently and continued choking. Jack patted his back and tried everything he could to pull him out of his panic. “Just gather yourself bud, focus on me you’re okay, you’re safe just relax” the constant string of assurances was doing nothing. Race wanted to believe him wanted to believe he was safe hell he wanted to breathe but he just couldn’t.

  
He couldn’t breathe he couldn’t focus try as he might he couldn’t stop coughing nothing was working. Black dots started to fill his vision and a few minutes after it began it was over with an unconscious Racer slumped against the wall his head lolling onto Jack’s shoulder. His breathing evened out though it sounded labored and thick. Jack slung his arm across the boys shoulders and rubbed his friends arms in a useless attempt to comfort him.

  
“He needs a proper doc” Crutchie plainly stated noting the worry on Jack’s face.

  
“Slush funds empty l checked.” He felt Race’s forehead hoping against hope for once this week it wouldn’t be firey hot, sure enough his skin still blazed. “I even called one to check the price of a house call this time a year. Bastard wants 2 dollars.”

  
Crutchie sat plucking the vegetables from the soup that stuck to his shirt off of him. “That’s theft!” He protested “We can try to poll it though? Or yous can maybe ask Kath?”

  
“I’ll see who can donate I ain’t asking Kath for that ’s too much.” Jack collected himself and scooped the unconscious Race up he laid him back in his bunk and tucked the covers around him. “What are we gonna do with you kid?” He muttered pushing a sweat soaked curl behind his ear.

  
“He’ll be fine Jackie. He’s a strong kid. We can see who can pitch in somethin tonight” Crutchie stood up off the floor. He plucked the last vegetable off his shoulder and held it out for Jack. “Carrot?” Jack gave him a sad smile a popped the soggy vegetable into his mouth.

  
That night Jack made his rounds collecting pennies and nickels from everyone in the house. Even with the great headline some of them had little to none to spare. On Saturdays rent was collected from the boys 6 cents per night, 10 if you wanted a private bed. The older newsies chipped in to cover Race’s 42¢ debt. By the end of the night Jack collected a $1.10 still 90 cents off but it was a start. Most of the littles couldn’t afford to pitch in which left the older boys to pick up the slack. Jesse however chipped in a dime saying commenting that he missed selling with his best friend.  
With some quick math Jack and Crutchie figured they’d be able to get a doctor in to see him by Monday seeing as no one made house calls Sundays.

  
“You hear me buddy just hang on for 2 more days and we’ll get you right as rain I promise.” Jack said to the still unconscious Racer. He took a rag out of the bucket of water they’d placed next to the bed rung it out and mopped at the boys forehead.

  
They took turns sitting watch with him through the nights. Every two hours someone new would come and take over the nursing duties of sponging his brow, fixing his blankets and just making sure he kept breathing. The next morning everyone moved a little slower than normal they missed Race’s energy he always brightened up a room. Two more days Albert told himself and they’d get Racer back just two more days. The lot of them headed out for the day each saying a silent prayer that his chest would still be rising and falling when they got back.

  
Across town in Brooklyn papes were selling like hot cakes. Spot pushed his normal 150 papers by noon a new record. A lot of the Brooklyn boys went back to the circulation desk to pick up more but Spot hadn’t seen or heard from his friend down at the races all week. He made the trek to Manhattan to check in. He ran into one of Jack’s littles on his way through the borough. The little red head was holding his paper upside down just begging any passer by to buy it. Spot stopped and looked the kid over and asked if the boy could read he shook his head. Spot skimmed the paper and gave the boy the best headline to try calling out. “Multiple dead in automobile accident.” He began to walk away from the little one when he turned back on his heel.  
“Hey kid? You knows a Racetrack Higgins?” The boy nodded back, “Where’s he been?”

  
“Oh I’m sorry sir mista Racetrack isn’t well. He’s not allowed out of bed Mista Jack says so his self.” The kids eyes were a little watery as he told Spot.

  
He thanked the boy and went on his way. Race was sick that’s fine newsies get sick all the time. Spot repeated this mantra as anxiety crept into him. He quickened his pace until he was all but running to Duane Street.

  
Spot turned the handle and let himself in, these house were always crawling with kids there was no way Kloppman would be able to remember every face. He made his way to the lodgings before any of the Manhattan newsies returned. He settled himself and set to exploring the house himself. Spot worked his way to the bunk rooms as he checked he realized he had no idea where Racer’s bed actually was in the labyrinth of the house. He checked the first two bunk rooms with no luck but when he opened the door to the third he was greeted with thick hacking coughs and a groan from the occupant on the corner bed closest to the door.

  
“Hey Race I heard yous sick” Spot called as he walked towards to bed. Upon seeing his friends face he stumbled backwards a step. He looked like a corpse his eyes were sunken into the dark circles around them, his skin was waxy and translucent he was completly devoid of color. He was propped up on some make shift pillows of old clothes and rags his head hung to the side. His shoulder was caked in dried vomit that stuck to the corner of his mouth and cheek. Spot grabbed a rag from the bucket of water and began mopping his friend up. His whole body shook with rage as he tried to keep his ministrations gentle. Spot put his one knee up on the top of the mattress so he’d be able to clean the rest of the vomit. Spot jumped back as soon as he felt his knee was wet. Spot threw the rag at the wall and screamed in frustration. He knew Race wasn’t well it’s the only reason he’d miss selling. Spot just never expected to find his friend inches from death covered in vomit and piss.  
Spot stormed to the bathroom and ran a bath. He hefted the unconscious boy out of the bed and placed him in it cursing Jack Kelly the entire time. Race didn’t stir once. Spot bathed him as he did his little brother in the past as bizarre of a situation as this was he just couldn’t leave him like that. Spot dried and redressed the boy in clean clothes before carrying him back to the bunk room he put him in the bed adjacent to where he was previously. If anyone said a thing about him being in their bed they were going to catch hell.

  
He cleaned and changed the water in the bucket and put a new compress on Race’s forehead before taking up a seat next to him. He sat spitting mad waiting to unleash his rage on the first person who walked through the bunk room door.

  
Lucky for Spot, Jack was the first one back. The second he came in Spot charged him. He slammed the boy against the wall. Spot held his arm to Jack’s throat to keep him in place. Even being a head shorter he was a fair bit stronger and kept him there with ease.

  
“I ain’t see him for a week at the races and this is how yous let me find him?!” Spot roared inches from Jacks face “Soaked in piss and vomit he looks like he’s fucking dead Jackie!” Jack pushed Spot off of him but let him continue “Fucking hell Kelly yous supposed to take care of these kids but instead yous just gonna let him die? When’d this start? What the fuck happened?” Jack glanced over at him he looked impossibly worse than when they left him this morning. Spot took in a breath to continue when Races body jerked once smashing the blond boys head into the headboard of the bunk he was propped up in. It was loud enough to break Spots attention from Jack.

  
His face contorted itself with pain and his whole body convulsed. “Race?” Spot was sitting on the side of his bed in a second “Tony??” Spot yelled shaking his shoulders Race’s lips faded from their usual pink shade to dark red then to blue blue. The convulsions continued Spot held his shoulders firmly to the bed to attempt to slow the thrashing Jack stared wide eyed, glued to the spot unsure of what to do. He’d heard of people having fits before but never had he’d seen one. Elmer and Albert wandered in joking with each other. Their laughter stopped as they realized what they walked into. Albert darted to Race’s other side frantically screaming his friends name in hopes of making Race stop.

Elmer ran out the door as soon as he realized what was happening with an “I’ll get the priest.”

  
After 3 minutes that felt like eternity the violent shaking finally slowed the unconscious Racer let out a fast breath followed by a sharp inhale returning the color of his lips to the soft pink instead of bluish purple. His head rolled to the side and his breathing was weak and shallow. Albert let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and looked desperately at Spot with tears in his eyes “what do we do?”

  
“Jackie fix him” Spot all but begged still sitting on his bed his friend limp next to him. Spot helplessly rubbed the boys arm more to soothe himself than anything. “He needs a hospital. My boys’ll chip in please.”


	2. Chapter Two

Twenty minutes after Racer’s first fit ended the second one began. Same as before his whole body shook violently. Jack gave in and ran to call for an ambulance as Spot jarred Race’s mouth open and shoved a deck of cards inside to keep him from swallowing his tongue.

The ambulance bounced up the cobblestone street an hour after the call was placed. The woman on the phone said something about prioritizing patient pick up based on severity but Jack was well aware it was because of their money status.

Jack waited on the stoop bouncing on the balls of his feet waiting for the orderlies to arrive. When the two of them got there and unloaded their stretcher Jack ran them up to the fourth floor bunk room taking the stairs two at a time.

Spot was sitting in the bed with Racer’s back held to his chest, the blond head rested in the crook of Spots neck as he was gently rocked back and forth. The priest Elmer fetched was sporting a fresh black eye curiosity of Spot, after suggesting giving the boy his last rights. Father Murphy resigned to praying the rosary at the boys bedside. Albert and Elmer sat at the foot of the bed in silence leaning on one another. When the orderlies arrived they were the first two to jump up but Spot refused to budge he tightened his grip on his friend. 

“Sir we need to get him out of here. He’s not going to get better just sitting there.” The older one tried to coax him out of the bed but Spot tightened his hold, screwed his eyes shut and shook his head like a child. He buried his face in Racer’s hair trying to hide.

“Sir.” The one started again annoyed Jack put his hand up to stop the orderly from saying anything more and stepped forward.

Jack offered a hand to Spot “come stand with me let these nice men do their jobs. It’ll only take a second.”

Spot considered the offer and resigned he wiggled himself from behind his friend making sure to take care in laying him gently back on the bed. He clung to Jack’s arm like it was the only thing that could keep him from drowning. The two orderlies lifted Race with ease and tossed him on the stretcher like a sack of potatoes. Spot made to lunge forward but Jack kept him securely in place. The men in white suits started for the door with Spot Jack Albert and Elmer close behind. Spot went to jump in the carriage after they loaded Race in. The younger of the two orderlies looked at him sadly and said “Sorry sir family only” as the older one pushed him out the back and into the street, he shut the doors in  Spot’s face as he made a second attempt to hop in and pulled off.

Spot seeing red screamed every curse word he knew as the wagon clattered down the street as he sprinted after it. Jack, Elmer and Albert took off after him. They lost sight of the carriage  after 6 blocks. Once the hospital was in sight Spot took off like a shot and charged the lobby. Jack caught up with him but not before he could start harassing the staff. Jack found Spot attempting to fight his way past the nurses. He wound back a fist to swing at the nurse refusing him entrance to the locked ward when Jack caught his fist mid air and dragged him back to wrestle him into a chair. “Nows not the time to be makin any new enemies Conlon.” Jack grunted as he forced the thrashing boy to sit.

Elmer took the seat next to Spot and tried to soothe him with nonsensical murmurings like he used to do when his siblings were toddlers. This earned him a sharp back hand across the face from Spot. He rubbed his cheek and shrunk down into his seat more stunned than actually hurt. 

“Oi Spot! You ain’t gonna be hurting my boys that’s for damn sure.” Jack held his wrists firmly in place. “Listen to me.” He whistled quick “hey I need eyes.” Jack used this line on the littles at least twice a day to get their eyes on him and hold their attention, he never thought he’d be saying it to the king of Brooklyn. “I’m going to go find out what’s happening but if and only if you can promise you won’t be acting like a fool when I leave.”

Spot looked down at his feet and nodded once.

Elmer stayed next to Spot not daring to move, he looked towards Jack with a pleading look of “Don’t leave me with him.” Jack put up a hand to order him to stay. Jack headed toward the nurses station while Albert plopped down on Spots other side. 

“Look theys got free coffee right over there.” Albert proudly held up a mug to show Elmer as Spot rolled his eyes.

Jack stopped in the washroom before trying his luck sweet talking the nurses. Realizing he may have better luck if he was not covered in soot and newspaper ink he made quick work of scrubbing up in the sink. With his hands and face scrubbed pink he made his way over to the nurses that were gossiping about the latest disruption of the day. Unluckily Spot and his outburst worked its way to the top of the workplace gossip for the day.

Jack walked up with a small smile hoping to be able to win the chattering birds over. “Good evening ladies.” He offered his best smile.

“Can I help you?” One of the nurses answered curtly looking affronted that someone would be so rude as to butt into their conversation.

Keeping his smile firmly in place Jack tried his best. “Actually yes I was wondering if we could have any word on our friend Anthony? Anthony Higgins they just brought him in not half an hour ago.”

“Honey, listen if they just brought him in we wouldn’t have an update now would we please go take a-“

“But maybe I could see him? Talk to someone who does know? Please?” He could kick himself for sounding so childish.

“Family only in the back dear. I’ll call you if we hear anything. Now please take your seat.” She turned in her seat to face her friends before she even finished shooing him away.

Jack looked over his shoulder to Albert Spot and Elmer. All eyes were on him, he held up one finger to say he’d be right back and took off down the hall towards the courtesy phone.

“Hello central? Can you ring me Number 11 East 73rd Street please?” He bounced on the balls of his feet waiting for someone to pick up. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard a voice on the other line.

“Hello, Pulitzer's residence, this is Maggie speaking.”

“Thank goodness! Miss Maggie its Jack please I need to talk with Katherine.” He blurted out as soon as she was finished thanking his lucky stars that the only servant who actually liked him had answered.

“One moment dear.”

He fidgeted with the cord as he waited for Kathrine he had no idea what he was going to tell her or ask of her, she was his good luck charm and he just prayed that was enough.

“Why hello Mister Kelly this is a surprise.” Katherine said playfully. Jack was more the kind of boyfriend who would pop up in her life unannounced he wasn’t one to call first in fact Katherine was covertly surprised he knew how to use the phone.

“Ace! Oh thank god um Ace it’s bad I don’t know what to do no one will talk to me I don’t know what’s going on can you just come meet me please? Yous better at this than I am.” 

“Woah woah woah slow down cowboy. What’s going on? Where are you?”

“Shit uh yeah um Race is sick. Like in the hospital sick. I thought he’d be okay if he just got rest then he started seizin’ and wouldn’ wake up and I don’t know what to do. They won’t tell me anything since I’s not family but I’s the only familys he’s got.” His voice caught in his throat “Kathrine help me.”

“Shh baby I’ll be there in twenty minutes just sit tight. I’ll get this sorted it’ll be fine baby I’ll handle everything. We’ll figure this out I promise.”

“I’m sorry. Thank you”

“I’ll see you soon sugar. I love you. Just sit tight I’ll be there soon.”

With that the line went dead he hung up the receiver and slid down the wall head in his hands. Kathrine would be able to fix this she had a way with people that he never would. Her commanding presence was not something that ever went unnoticed . So when she stormed in, wearing her Sunday’s best, 15 minutes later she had the attention of everyone in the room.

“Where is he?” She demanded at the nurses station.

“I’m sorry miss where is who?” The head nurse smoothed her dress and flipped open the admissions book.

“My cousin, Anthony Higgins.” She crosses her arms visibly annoyed. Jack watched her closely wondering just what game she was playing.

“I’m sorry ma’am he’s not taking visitors.”

“‘I’m sorry he’s not taking visitor?’” Kathrine spat back “Do you... do you know who I am? I can have your job for this. I can have your head for this.” She had heard her father use this line to get what he wanted in the past and tried her luck with it. She was far less important than him but confidence is key when it comes to these matters. 

“I’ll see what I can do ma’am would you like to take a seat?” The woman looked over her shoulder for reinforcements but her coworkers had abandoned her to the whims of this crazy person by running off to busy themselves with their own work.

“I will wait right here. Hurry back and do not waste my time.” Kathrine watched as the nurse disappeared into the ward. She turned, dropped her angry rich girl facade and gave the four bewildered boys a kind smile and wave.

A minute later the nurse returned “He’s in bed sixteen in the second ward on the right you can see him if you wish.”

Katherine's eyes went wide she couldn’t believe that worked but she decided to try one more trick. “Thank you. Have a private room prepared immediately. He will not be staying in an open ward.”

She motioned to Jack Albert Elmer and Spot for them to follow her and they made their way through the doors. Kathrine shot a look at the nurse begging her to say something.

“Sorry about that” Katherine said as she interlaced her hand with Jack’s. “I guessed that you might have tried charming and it didn’t work so I went with crazy heiress. Please don’t hate me?”

“I could never Ace. Thank you.”

They walked the long hall in silence with Spot fiddling with the hem of his shirt. The ward had about 40 beds in it only 3 of them were vacant. They came upon bed 16 the curtains were drawn to give the boy privacy. The group looked at each other wondering who would go through first none of them made a move. After a beat Spot broke free of the pack and went in. The rest followed him through the curtain. Kathrine gasped at the sight of Racer. Spot wasted no time settling himself on the side of his bed and taking his limp hand in his.

Katherine took up post next to his head threading her fingers through his matted curls gently untangling them. “Hey Race. It’s Katherine baby. They’re going to take such good care of you here I promise. Rest up just focus on feeling better.” He lay still fast asleep as she whispered about how everything would be alright. Spot gazed at her wide eyed hanging on every word as if she said it it had to be true.

Jack picked up the chart at the foot of his bed attempting to make heads or tails of it but between the doctors sloppy cursive and the medical terminology it was all Greek to him. They stood vigil for about 15 minutes until a group of 3 orderlies came in.

“Miss Pulitzer?” The one clearly in charge asked “we have Mister Higgins’ room ready we hope you’ll find it to your liking?”

“I’m sure it will be fine gentlemen, thank you.” She responded tersely. Spot refused to budge from his side “Sean? Would you be kind enough to escort me to his new room please?”

She held out her hand hoping Spot would accept this cue. He stood and offered her his arm. His eyes didn’t move away from Race once. These orderlies were far more gentle in transferring him to the gurney. They took care in lifting and laying him back down as if he were made of the finest China. Kathrine kept a tight grip on Spot’s arm to keep him from running back to Racer’s side they were lead to the 5th floor of the hospital the east wing was the private sector.

It was far more homey than the cold sick bays downstairs. The wing was more of a hotel than a hospital. The mattresses of the beds were 5 times as thick as any of the beds at the lodging house each room had cushy armchairs big enough for two people to share. There were bells strung up above the bed tied to a cord to summon a nurse with the pull of a string. Each room had a private privy with hot and cold running water. Albert’s jaw dropped as he took in the opulence of the room. From the golden light fixtures to the luxurious bed clothes it was nicer than any place he had ever been in.

The orderlies turned down the bed before gently tucking Racer in. The ring leader turned to Kathrine “If there is anything you and your guests need please do not hesitate to ask ma’am.” She nodded with a quick word of thanks and let him get back to his work.

“Kathrine can I speak with you?” Jack tugged on her sleeve after everyone else was settled. “In the hall please?”

She followed him out as the door shut he turned to her and whispered “Kath what are you doin? We can’t ‘fford this!”

“I know but please let me do this.” She pleaded.  He opened his mouth to protest and she held up a finger to silence him “No one can get better in those sick bays the chances of making it out alive are 30% or less they’re dirty and they’re over crowded he’s too important to subject him to that. Please let me do this. Please Jack he’s my friend too.”

Jack thought for a second ready to object when the doctor approached. He introduced himself as Doctor Duvier, the head physician at the hospital. After reading over Race’s charts and giving the boy a once over he pulled Kathrine aside to explain things.

“You’re friend I’m afraid is very ill” Spot scoffed from across the room at the obviousness of this statement. “We believe it’s influenza that has settled into his lungs to become pneumonia. It would explain the fevers as well as the seizures but not the unconsciousness. I will be starting him on oxygen therapy to help clear his lungs as well as intravenous drips to keep a steady stream of medication in him. The nurse will be in shortly to set that up for him.” He droned on about the safety of the medicines they were trying, about the quality of the apothecary on staff and other things that went over the boys heads. Kathrine scribbled all the information down in one of her note books to ensure she remembered everything incase Race had any questions when he woke up.

When asked if she had any questions she shook her head and replied “Not yet but I will find you when I do.” Doctor Duvier nodded and shook both her and Jack’s hand before exiting the room.

He made it out the door  when a “Wait doc!” called him back Spot played with his hands nervously as he asked “Will he be okay? He’ll wake up soon right?”

“Time will only tell my boy. We’ll all try our best.”

“I guess we just wait now?” Jack said to his crew as the doctor walked away. Everyone settled into the silence of the room Albert and Katherine both opted to share a book that she out of her purse, Elmer fell asleep in one of the arm chairs Jack doodled absentmindedly on a newspaper he grabbed in the lobby. Spot situated himself again behind Race so that Race was laying with his back against Spots torso. Spot played with his curls as he slept.

A nurse came in shortly after everyone found their spots in the room. She chatted kindly with Spot answering the barrage of questions he bombarded her with. She placed bags filled with ice on his armpits, behind his knees, on the back of his neck and on his groin. “To cool his blood” she explained with a smile.

Spot stiffened when he saw the glass bottle with the tube attached to the black rubber stopped. At the end of the tube was a long silver needle that made Spot’s stomach flip. She swabbed the crook of Race’s arm with iodine and poked around looking for something with her fingers. When she found it she took the needle and poked it through with ease securing it in place with a bandage. Spot felt light headed watching it but was snapped back to reality when the boy in his arms groaned.

“Hey Race.” Spot called vigorously rubbing the boys upper arm “Tony it’s okay” his sleepy blue eyes opened and looked around confused.

Racer’s brows furrowed as he looked around attempting to get his bearings straight. He relaxed when he saw the faces of his friends. Their mouths were moving but no words were coming out. He felt Spot’s voice buzz against his back.

“Where am I?” His voice was rough from disuse but he couldn’t hear it. He felt the words buzz but no sounds were coming to him. Try harder he thought to himself “where am I?” He yelled as loud as he could. 

The stranger to his side lips were moving now she had a nice smile that’s all he could figure out. He felt the buzz of Spot talking behind him and looked up to see if he could make out what he was saying. He couldn’t understand them he couldn’t understand any of them. His breaths came fast and erratic as panic quickly set in he screwed his eyes shut to see if that would bring the voices in clearer. He thrust himself into a void of nothingness when his eyes were closed he snapped them back open. There was someone new there when he opened them back up. He was talking too. The man looked official enough when the man realized Race wasn’t understanding what was happening he asked Jack something after receiving a quick nod the man pulled out a pen and paper and wrote “Can you hear me?” He held it up for Racer to read then clapped twice. Race’s eyes went wide and he shook his head.

The buzzing from Spot was back it felt louder at least there was more of it. He looked up to see the boys face tense with effort he was screaming at someone no one in the room looked scared enough though. He must be screaming to him. There was no sound left in the world. Race tried to steady his breathing but it was coming too quick and too sharp. He felt Spot rub his arms trying to settle him. His whole life changed in a minute and they expected him to calm down. He closed his eyes to focus on breathing but was scared of the dark again. He snapped his eyes open again to see the nurse holding a black mask as she tried to wiggle onto his face. Racer screamed as the mask was slid over his nose and mouth he inhaled to yell out again but instead he felt impossibly light as his eyes became heavy. The last thing he saw was the nurses kind smile and her mouth forming the words “Good boy.” 

Racer woke up a few hours later he kept his eyes shut to try to get a few more minutes of sleep. He smacked his lips together sleepily as he rolled onto his stomach. A sharp pain shot through his arm as he accidentally ripped the needle out of it. He instantly remembered where he was and shot bolt upright. He was greeted by Spot’s hand patting his back as Jack jumped up from his arm chair holding his finger to his lips. 

“You’re okay” Jack scrawled quickly holding each page up for a few seconds for Race to read before dropping it to the floor. “You’re in the hospital. You’re safe.”

Race nodded remembering “whas a matta wit me?” he asked back still a touch drowsy from the gas, his voice came louder than he meant it to but he couldn’t tell until Jack put his finger back up to shush him.

“We’ll figure it out” he wrote back, smiled then flipped the paper over to write “I promise”

Race nodded and winced as he tested his own hearing. He snapped his fingers repeatedly clapped his hands he tried for minutes as his friends watched helplessly. His face contorted in concentration until he became so frustrated he began slapping his ears with increasing intensity as tears streamed down his face.  Kathrine gently took Race’s hands away from his face and brought them to her lips for a soft kiss on his knuckles. She held his hands whispering nonsense into them. Spot hugged him close while rocking him side to side muttering into his hair. Albert and Elmer sat at the foot of his bed until he calmed down. 

An hour after waking up Race was subjected to a barrage of tests. Spot refused to move unless it was completely necessary then after the test was completed he’d wiggle himself right back in behind Race. Around 9 at night Elmer and Albert said their goodbyes and promised to be back tomorrow. Jack and Katherine walked them out as they were banished from the room for yet another test. After waving the boys off Jack and Katherine sat in the lobby for a few minutes to process the day. They against each other as she traced the lines of Jack’s work worn hand when she mustered the courage to ask what she’d been wondering all day.

“What’s the deal with those two?” She piped up.

Jack stiffened instantaneously “Al and Elm? They’s Race’s best friends o course they’d stay all day.” He tried dodging it but he knew full well who she was asking about.

“Not them, Spot and Racer? Are they... are they anything?” She tried in a hushed tone.

“They’s friends.” He said his voice was firm he wanted it to be the end of the discussion but knowing Kathrine that was too much to ask for.

“Just friends?” She prompted.

“Ace look I ain’t gonna lie to you but I ain’t about to be spillin’ their business they’s friends alright just leave it as is.”

She smiled knowingly “I love them and their friendship then. I love you too” she gave him a peck on the cheek and settled into his shoulder. Jack heaved a sigh of relief as he laid his head against hers.

The diagnosis came by morning. Spot quickly scrawled everything the doctor was saying on the paper in front of him and Race. “Your high fever from the influenza lead to encephalitis or swelling in your brain. That explains the loss of consciousness, as well as the hearing loss, the seizures could have been from the fever or this. As for your hearing loss it is most likely permanent. I am so sorry.”

Race read and reread the last two sentences numerous times as everyone around him asked questions, argued, and placed blame on one another. The doctor was talking to Race again Spot tapped his shoulder to get his attention as he wrote “do you have any questions?”

Thousands of questions whizzed through his head but none seemed important enough to ask. It was most likely permanent that was a fact. He took a deep breath and asked the most pressing matter on his mind “when can I go home?”

The doctor clasped him on the shoulder and he watched his lips form the word “soon”.

Around noon Jack excused himself to check on the rest of his boys. Spot begrudgingly admitted  that he had to go check on his Brooklyn boys as well. Spot never disappeared without letting at least someone know ahead of time. He certainly wasn’t planning on the past 24 hours transpiring as they had. Katherine offered to stay with Race and Jack promised he’d send Davey in to sit with them shortly. Jack debriefed Davey on the situation at the distribution center and asked him to go sit with Race and Katherine while Jack sold with Les. A few hours after Jack left, Davey arrived his arms laden with library books on deaf-mutes and sign language. 

Davey grinned with pride as he set down his haul on Racer’s bedside table. Dave was practically bouncing at the opportunity to study something new. Having been told how they’d been communicating he picked up pen and wrote. “I thought these would be a good place to start.” as he held up a book titled “ _ Language for the Deaf and Dumb _ ” 

Race’s face fell as he rolled his eyes. He held Davey’s eyes as he slowly dragged his arm across the table intentionally knocking the books all over the floor. “Oops.” he deadpanned “Poor deaf dumb me don’t understand no books.”

“Oh!” Davey’s eyes went wide as he looked at Katherine for help. “I- I didn’t think, I didn’t mean to.” he stuttered out.

Race pointed to his ears visibly annoyed. “Save it buddy, deaf and dumb remember.” He rolled over to his side mumbling about being tired as Davey took a seat next to Katherine in the armchairs. He slumped down defeated, as Katherine reached over to pat him on the knee.

After some awkward silence David attempted to make a peace offering to his friend. He wrote out “I’m heading to the deli you hungry? My treat?” Race gave him a small smile and nodded. Davey and Spot made it back to the room at the same time. Davey’s arms were full of paper bags. He pulled out sandwiches, soups and a single glass bottle of coca cola. A huge grin split Race’s face as Davey nonchalantly handed bottle to him.

“For me? For real?” Race asked in disbelief, Davey nodded with a smile. “I can’t take this” he tried to hand it back to him but Davey held his hand up to refuse it. “I should get sick more often. Thank you.”  Spot’s mouth turned up as he watched Race bounce up and down in excitement. He took the tiniest sip of brown liquid. “Guys you need to try this!” 

Davey’s library book incident was instantly forgiven and forgotten. The grandeur of the gesture didn’t go unnoticed by any of them. The 6.5 ounce bottle of soda set Davey back an entire nickel. All the newsies lusted after the drink that was so well known by their clients but too far out of their price ranges. Race, Spot, and Davey shared a quarter of the small bottle before putting the stopper in it to save for another day. 

Spot and Race fell into an easy rhythm. Spot would act as his ears transcribing almost everything that was said to him. He’d often leave footnotes at the bottom expressing his personal distaste for whomever was speaking earning a chuckle out of Race. He slept most of the time his body was exhausted from fighting off the fever and trying to breathe through the liquid that slowly was working its way out of his lungs. Spot stayed by his side every hour of the day. 

One quiet afternoon they decided to crack open one of the library books. They took turns trying to make their fingers form the letters. They sat cross legged in the bed laughing at each others failed attempts. Race tried spelling his full name forgetting the letter “N” half way through so he opted for flicking his middle fingers up as they both dissolved in a fit of laughter. 

Everyone came to visit at some point or another during his stay in the hospital. Crutchie and Specs brought by a hoard of the littles one day. Spot heard them rumbling down the hall and wrote and ominous note that just said “they’re coming.” The door opened and everyone quieted the littles looked serious and refused to make eye contact with the boy in the bed.

Race spoke up to break the tension “hiya gentlemen didja miss me? Come here gimme a hug.” Jesse ran forward leapt into the bed and squeezed Racer as tight as he could. Race flipped the boy over to tickle him mercilessly his smile went to his eyes when he felt the vibrations of the little one giggling screams. Spot winced at the noise as the room burst into commotion.

The kids each brought Race a get well soon card that Jack helped them make. All of them took turns showing off their masterpieces to him. Race regarded the crude drawings with all the proper “oohs” and “ahhs” of one admiring the Sistine Chapel. In minutes the walls around him were covered with their artwork. He personally thought it looked better than the stuffy decor the original decorator chose anyway.

Soon the room looked like an ant hill crawling with kids as they explored every inch of the room Crutchie and Specs settled into an armchair as kids darted every which way. It took a little extra time to converse but between Race slowly getting better at reading lips and Spot’s hasty scribbling Race was able to understand everything that was going on.

Two hours after their arrival one of the kind younger nurses came by. She tapped gently on the door but no one heard her over the ruckus. “Boys!” She called “Boys people are trying to sleep I need you gentlemen to either shape up or ship out.” 

Race looked to Spot to explain,  jotted down “she’s tossin em to the curb because theys loud enough to wake the dead. You’d think they’d want that in a place like this.”

“Sorry miss we’ll settle.” Race said with a smile.

“Race stop lying to the lady. We’ll get outta ya hair anyways it’s getting late.” Crutchie said starting to gather the kids. Everyone took turns giving hugs goodbye Crutchie ruffled his curls and whispered to Spot “be good to him” without anyone else’s knowledge. Race’s smile faltered for a second he didn’t want them to leave for the first time in he felt like himself since this whole ordeal started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deaf-mute was the period appropriate term for Deafness  
> Deaf and dumb was the label given to most deafies in the late 18 early 1900's regardless if they were intellectually disabled as well or not.
> 
> Please never refer to a Deaf or Hoh person as either of these now.


	3. Chapter Three

Be good to him.” The words Crutchie had whispered rang in Spot’s ears long after they were spoken. 

Spot sat cross legged at the head of the bed as Race laid on his side using Spot’s thigh as a pillow. The visit had exhausted him but he was glad to had seen his friends. Spot absentmindedly wound a single blond curl around his index finger. 

“You’s awfully quiet.” Racer noted snuggling in closer as he watched Spot’s face. 

“You’s awfully deaf.” Spot joked as he let go of the curl, tapped the boys ear twice before going back to the strand. 

His mouth twitched up with a quick smile “‘M serious you okay?” 

Spot looked down at him so he could read his lips, nodded and tapped his own temple “just thinking.”

Satisfied Race laid his head back down as he mumbled “first time for everything.” He felt a light ‘thwack’ across his head and grinned as he felt Spot shake with a small laugh. Within minutes Race’s breathing deepened and his face fell slack with sleep. 

“Be good to him” Spot whispered to himself as he continued to gently play with the curl. How could anyone be anything but good to him? 

Race was everything Spot tried to ensure that he himself wasn’t. Race was kind and funny and welcoming and he made the world significantly brighter and it was all Spot’s fault he was there. Fear crept into his thoughts as he spiraled. Spot was the one who let him out in the freezing rain, he was the one who didn’t check on him sooner, his seizures only started after Spot got to him. If he had gotten there sooner Race would still be whole. Spot was the one who broke him. What if him staying was making Race worse too? The doctors weren’t happy with his slow progress that they said his lungs should be clear and he shouldn’t still be spiking fevers. Yet here they were. He tore his eyes away from the sleeping boy in his lap and let his head fall back against the headboard as a single tear pricked the corner of his eye. Taking a deep breath and shook the thoughts from his head. He leaned forward, pressed a light kiss to his friends temple and whispered “’m so sorry Tony.” 

“Be good to him.” Echoed again what if the best thing for him was not being there at all. 

Sitting back up not wanting to jostle Racer and risk waking him Spot resigned himself to sleeping upright for the night with Race’s head in his lap. 

Jack and Katherine found them like that the next morning. He towed her behind him as they dashed through the halls of the hospital. They almost passed the room when Jack grabbed hold of the door frame and swung himself in “Conlon!” He yelled startling the boy awake “your mums a whore!” Jack rushed the words out clutching at stitch in his side. 

“The fuck did you just say to me Jackie?” He stormed out of the bed the abrupt movement shaking Race awake. Katherine quickly moved herself to block Jack from the beating he was about to get. 

Katherine glared over her shoulder at the idiot she was protecting. “Sean let me explain.” She held her hands up to stop him from advancing he made a move to duck under her arm and she caught him across the chest. At that moment Race spoke up breaking his attention. 

“Spotty?” Race’s voice came from the bed heavy with sleep “what’s a matter?” Spot whipped his head around at the voice as he shook with anger. 

“Start talkin’ Pulitzer.” He spat at her as Jack regained his composure after sprinting all the way from the lodging house. 

“Someone - called - Kloppmann.” Jack puffed out after a deep breath he continued “someone from the hospital called asking about Race’s parents.”

“So they’s dead, they’s gonna be hard to reach.” Spot snapped not at all happy with this explanation. 

“Sean they were trying to find out about your parents too.” Katherine intervened “they are trying to figure out if you two are actually brothers or if you’re...friends. Jack fielded the call because Kloppmann didn’t know the answer but if anyone comes asking questions that’s the story. You have the same mother and different fathers that’s why your last names are different. The police have been cracking down on these sort of things just- just be careful.”

“Crackin’ down on what thing? I don’t see what’s wron-“ he trailed off realizing the implications. What he felt for Race was illegal. While Spot normally had no qualms about breaking a law or two there was no way he would let a crush be the thing he got arrested for or worse what if Race got in trouble for it. “Oh. But we are just friends.” He sounded defeated no matter how he felt about Race he knew it would never be reciprocated. 

“I know baby.” She patted his shoulder he brushed past her. 

“Talk about my mudda like that again and ain’t no girlie gonna be able to protect you. I need some air yous stay with him.” He punched Jack in the arm as he stomped past and slammed the door. 

Jack massaged his arm as Katherine lightly scolded “That’s why you let me do the talking.”

Race sat up in the bed completely bewildered “Seriously? Is no one going to fill me in?” 

Racer brow furrowed as he cocked his head at the paper Katherine set in front of him a moments later “but we really are jus’ friends or at least I’s think we are.” 

Jack and Katherine only visited for about 15 minutes. Neither could miss a day of work rent was due soon at the lodging house and Katherine was taking extra stories to help cover Race’s medical bills. Race insisted on being moved to an open ward after he discovered what Katherine had done but she was twice as stubborn as he could ever hope to be and he stayed in his suite. After quick goodbye hugs and promises of visiting soon Race was left with his own thoughts. 

No matter how badly Race wanted him and Spot to be anything more they were only ever just friends. Nausea crept up as his stomach twisted with guilt as memories flooded him. They were friends who sought out the other on bad selling days just to make it better. Friends that dared each other to do flips off the dock into the water. Friends who would run up and leap onto the others back for surprise piggyback rides that usually ended with both of them landing in a pile of laughter when they toppled over together. Friends that danced with each other to the soft piano that floated out of restaurants they passed on their walks home. Friends that sat holding each other’s pinky finger as they lounged on the docks watching the sun set over the horizon. Friends that shared their hopes and dreams of futures that always included each other. 

Race flopped down against his pillow crossing his arms over his eyes. He screwed his face tight trying to remember all the times Spot threw his head back with laughter he concentrated hard remembering the sound trying to commit it to memory but it was already faded to begin with. He cursed himself for not appreciating the deep barking laugh more when he had the opportunity to. He laid back and fell into an uneasy sleep. Promising himself he’d deal with his emotions later. 

Several hours later Racer woke up his eyes still heavy with sleep he turned to nuzzle deeper into Spot’s chest but all he found was a down pillow. Pushing himself up to survey the room he realized he was still alone. Spot still hadn’t returned from his walk this morning even though one peak at the window told him that it was well past nightfall. 

He took a deep breath to calm himself when his stomach began to growl. He turned to get the tray of food that was left on his table by one of the nurses when he opened the cloche there was half a sandwich with a bite taken out of it a small plate with nothing but the crumbs of what he assumed was chocolate cake and a whole apple. “What in the wor-?” He muttered as a flurry of blankets caught his eye as they flew off the furthest armchair JoJo shot up and smiled him. 

“Good you’re awake” JoJo said tossing the rest of the blankets to the side to cross the room

“How long have you been here?” Race pulled him in for a tight hug “did you eat my dinner?”

JoJo plopped himself down at the foot of the bed wiping at the corners of his mouth to see if there was any chocolate left there to give him away “No?”

Race let out a quick laugh and took a bite of the apple “was it at least good?”

“Would you feel better if I said no?” He replied with a smile. Race slid him a piece of paper cocking his head not being able to pick up what he said. JoJo scribbled it down in tidy cursive letters. 

“Not one bit.”

“Good because it was delicious. I was only going to have a bite of cake then it was gone.” JoJo wrote and spoke at the same time so anything that wasn’t grasped would be. It was a stark contrast to Spot who only wrote or only spoke. “Hey I brought you something.” JoJo bounded across the room in two steps and began digging for something in his paper bag. He let out a soft “ah ha” when he found it. Hiding the present behind his back he turned to Race and said “close your eyes” as he shut his own in demonstration. Race obeyed and felt JoJo grab his hand and place a small tube in it. 

“Open up.” JoJo grinned after he put the gift in his outstretched hand. Race kept his eyes tight shut, joyously wiggling back and forth. “oh right.” JoJo sighed at his blunder and tapped him on the shoulder. 

Race opened his eyes to be greeted with the beautiful blue wrapper of a corona. “J where’d you get it?” JoJo held up a finger and pulled another one out of his back pocket with a sneaky grin “Two??” Race screamed with excitement as he leapt forward to grab the second one. 

“One to smoke one to chew. I thought you’d like them” JoJo explained with accompanying hand gestures. 

“Thank you!” Race hugged him tight around the neck laughing with excitement as JoJo returned the hug with a few slaps on the back. “Can we smoke ‘em now? Do you have time?” Race didn’t even wait for a response before he started digging in his end table for the lighter he always kept.

Glancing up at the clock that showed it was well past midnight he hesitantly agreed as Race swung himself out of bed he staggered a bit but clutched onto his IV post for support. JoJo grabbed an extra blanket and helped Race wiggle on his shoes before heading out.

Race was just as excited about the opportunity to go outside for a bit as he was the Coronas. Spot had left his last cigar at the lodging house when the ambulance had came for him and refused to bring him another no matter how much he whined. Every time Race would feel the need for his cigar Spot would take a hard candy from the bag of sweets Albert and Elmer brought by one day and pop it into Race’s mouth between complaints. It succeeded in shutting him up but not curbing the urge. 

They made their way slowly through the wing JoJo watched Racer’s every move as he shadowed him. By the time they reached the elevator Race was already out of breath. JoJo angled himself so Race could see his lips “We can just stay in your room.” 

Race took a deep breath and shook his head. His knees shook as they waited for the elevator. The elevator attendant ushered Race to sit in her seat he considered refusing out of politeness but his knees gave out and he plopped down. JoJo eyed him warily he was sure this was a mistake but upon seeing his cheesy smile he couldn’t bring himself to drag the boy back to bed just yet. When they reached the ground floor JoJo heaved Race onto his feet he staggered forward a few steps and looped his arm around JoJo’s shoulder for support. 

“We can go back up? These can wait.” 

Race shook his head and steeled himself as they exited the elevator and out the the front door. The cold air rushed in as they opened the door blowing Race’s gown as it whooshed passed. He broke loose of his friend and stood in the winter wind in absolute bliss. 

He closed his eyes and spread his arms as he breathed in his city. He felt familiar the rumble of streetcars and carriages the ground itself breathed with life. Race opened his eyes to gaze at his new and quiet New York City. He could still feel it, it was still his and it still roared even in the middle of a cold winter's night. 

“You okay?” JoJo asked as he tried to gently tug him to the bench. 

He took a deep breath through his nose to get just one more whiff of his home and nodded as he was guided to sit. 

Race dangled the cigar from his mouth as he smiled at JoJo while he worked at securing the blanket around the two of them. “I missed this you’re a real pal.” The cold air stung his face and made lungs contract with each breath but he couldn’t be happier to be free of the stuffy room he was growing to hate. He lit the cigar and took a small drag, savoring the spicy smoke that tasted like home. His weakened lungs protested painfully but he willed them not to choke. Race exhaled the puff of smoke and passed the cigar to JoJo as he nodded encouragingly. JoJo eyed it cautiously and breathed it in attempting to imitate Race. 

The smoke burned as it traveled down into his lungs JoJo clutched at his chest as the smoke threw himself into a coughing fit that lasted way longer than it should of. He doubled over hacking as Racer took the cigar from him put it back between his own teeth and patted JoJo on the back. He turned over the side of the bench and retched into the bush beside him. As the choking subsided he wiped the back of hand across his mouth as he sat back up. 

Race cocked an eyebrow at him and held out the cigar “you wanna try again?” 

JoJo groaned and pushed it away “that’s disgusting”

Race chuckled putting the cigar back between his teeth “that’s what Spot says too. Did he come back at all today? You know when I was asleep?”

JoJo scrubbed a hand over his face and shook him head “I hadn’t seen him”

Race’s stomach twisted with guilt as much as he hated being stuck inside at least Spot made it bearable. He couldn’t admit that he missed him it had only been a few hours “He stormed out this morning you think he’ll be back?” 

“Sure he will. What’s with you two anyway?” 

Race snuffed out the cigar. “I don’t even know.” He rested his head on JoJo’s shoulder and tugged the blanket closer. 

They sat in silence for a second when Race piped up again “how did you know that you wanted to be with Finch instead of a girl?” His cheeks burned red hot but if there was anyone in the world he could ask this to it was JoJo. He refused to look up to attempt to read his lips instead he stared at the notepad that JoJo brought along with him.

“I just knew. You feel it in your bones you feel it in here.” He tapped Race in the center of his chest. Race’s breath hitched in his throat. He began to write again “You feel it for Spot?” 

He paused to think for a moment considering lying but he gave in. Race nodded meekly staying pressed against his friends shoulder and let out a barely audible “don’t tell” as a single hot tear escaped and rolled down his cheek. JoJo alternated between scratching and patting Race’s back as he pretended to not notice his shoulder becoming damp with tears. 

They stayed like that until Race began to shiver JoJo ushered him back upstairs and into his room. He sat Racer on the edge of the bed and bent to take his shoes off for him. By the time he was undoing the second set of laces soft snores were cascading down on him. JoJo chuckled as he turned back the covers and swung Race’s legs into bed. His eyes fluttered open and quickly shut back down as he muttered “love you spotty”. 

JoJo ruffled Race’s hair and sighed “you got it bad kid” before crossing the room to tuck himself into the armchair for the night. 

Mere hours later the morning nurse Miss Bessie bustled in with her cart. “Good morning gentlemen.” She called cheerily JoJo sat up slowly the blanket still wrapped around his head and whole body so only his face stuck out of it. She set up shop next to the bed as Racer still laid fast asleep on his stomach. Miss Bessie scratched his back as per their normal morning routine as he stretched sleepily and slowly woke up. “Morning, pumpkin” 

He smiled up at his favorite nurse “mornin’ miss” 

She sat him up in bed and fluffed the pillows behind his back as JoJo extricated himself from his nest of blankets and moved to sit cross legged at the foot of the bed. 

“Do you want breakfast or breathing first?” She asked pointing at the trays of food then to the canister of oxygen on her cart to give him the choice although the answer was the same every day. 

“Breakfast, please. I can breathe when I’m dead.” 

She rolled her eyes at him and set the two plates of eggs, biscuits and sausage in front of the boys. “I’ll be back soon enjoy.” She patted JoJo on the head on her way out the door and smiled back at them as she shut the door. 

JoJo picked up the pen and paper as he tore a chunk off his biscuit “she seems nice.”

“She’s the best” he said through a mouth full of scrambled eggs, he swallowed and continued “her son Patrick ran away to become a newsie she ain’t seen him in years. I think that’s why she brings us all the good stuff.”

“Huh sounds like a fair deal.” He paused washing down the biscuit with some coffee “so you wan’ ta talk about last night?”

“Not really.” 

“Well I’m here to listen if you ever need it.”

With that the words came toppling out “I don’t know. I just feel different with him he’s been here everyday and he hasn’t been gone a day and I miss him. It’s not the same as it is with Elm or Al like I’ve only ever seen them as friends but with him... Christ I don’t know.” He trailed off “what if he’s just being nice? I mean if Elmer was in my shoes I’d stay with him everyday but that don’t mean nothin that don’t mean I like him. J what do I do?” 

“Just talk to him. That’s what I did with Finch.”

“Yeah that’ll work.” He scoffed rolling his eyes. 

“Worst case scenario what happens”

“He soaks me seven ways from Sunday.” 

“Spot wouldn’t soak someone for somein’ like that.”

“Seriously? I once saw him deck a kid for saying he liked his suspenders before he had his coffee. If I tell him this he’ll crack me like an egg.” 

“Then all a Jack’s horses and all a Jack’s men will put Racetrack Higgins together again” He joked 

“Jack ain’t got no horses.” Race scoffed paused for a second in thought “Really though worst case scenario is he hates me and never wants to see me again. Or he just kills me on sight.” 

“Then we’ll consider anything less than that a roaring success.” 

“Fine you win. I’ll tell em when he comes in. Ain’t no better place than a hospital to get the stuffing knocked outta ya” 

“That’s the spirit!”

They chatted throughout the rest of breakfast until Nurse Bessie came in to set up his oxygen tank and change his IV bottles. JoJo stayed until after she secured the black mask over his mouth and nose. He ducked out with a wave goodbye as Racer relaxed into his pillows breathing easily. 

“That’s good baby.” She praised listening to his lungs through her stethoscope, as his eyes started to close down. “I saw your brother pacing about the lobby I’ll let him in after your nap.”


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spot and the Terrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. 
> 
> How Spot spent his 24 hours away from Racer.

“Conlon! Your mom’s a whore!” What a thing to wake up to. Spoken by that pain in the ass Jack Kelly no less. It was a sure fire way to put Spot off his day.

 Spot stormed out of Race’s room slamming the door. He pounded down the steps and out the front door. Every muscle in his body shook with rage. Stupid Jack Kelly. He couldn’t tell if he was more mad about what Jack had said or about the implications that they had made about him and Racer. On top of that who was some rich girl to assume something so personal about them that he, himself, hadn’t yet pieced together.

 The anger bubbled up he could feel it ready to over boil. He wished everything was as easy to figure out as anger. It was pure, effortless, and powerful. Anger never tried to mask itself as something it wasn’t it demanded to be felt. It demanded to be dealt with.

 He planned to only step outside for a bit to keep himself from hitting a girl but his feet had a different plan. They carried him through the buzzing city streets back to his bridge, back to his borough, back to his boys. Every step he took on his bridge calmed him more. He broke into a jog when the distribution desk was in sight.

 “Morning boys” He called feeling a certain lightness, not realizing just how much he had missed his friends these past days. He wasn’t sure what kind of greeting he had expected but it certainly was not the one he got. A few of the littles waved and called back friendly “hellos” but the majority of the older boys just rolled their eyes at the sight of him and turned to continue their conversations.

 Spot trotted over to Hot Shot who was sitting on a barrel counting the papers in his bag. “Hey, how’s everythin’ here?” Spot asked as he hopped up onto the barrel next to him. Hot Shot grunted in disgust and walked off as soon as Spot sat down. Spot rushed after him shoving his back “what the hell man?”

 Hot Shot turned on his heel glowering down at Spot “We should all be askin’ you the same thing. You been gone for days without word and now you just pop up thinkin’ what? We’s gonna have a welcome wagon ready for ya? If yous gonna leave like that next time I’ll make sure you stay gone.”

 “That a threat?” Spot snapped.

 “It can be.” Hot Shot replied coolly crossing his arms across his chest.

 “You knew where I was I said I’d be back” The rage was back it was warming him at his core he didn’t want to start his morning with another fight but God he knew it would feel great.  

 “You didn’ say you’d be gone this long with one of Kelly’s kids. What are we to you? Nothin? He’s Hattens problem not yours.” Hot Shot advanced on him screaming “do even care what's been goin’ on here? No you’s been busy worried about your new favorite invalid.”

 “Don’t call him that.” Spot growled his fists balled at his side, he began to shake as his temper rose.

 Hot Shot lowered his voice as he shoved Spot backward “Whats a matta Spotty you don’ want us talkin bout your pet crip?”

 With that Spots vision went black as he launched himself at Hot Shot. He tackled him to the ground and sat up on his chest. Spot landed punch after punch as the two struggled on the ground. The group of newsies circled around cheering. Hot Shot flipped on top as his fist collided with Spot’s jaw with a satisfying crack. Spot spat blood into Hot Shot’s face as they continued. They struggled on the ground for awhile. Spot grabbed Hot Shot’s throat and rolled to pin him to the ground.

 Itey and Bumlets chose this point to intervene they grabbed Spot by the shoulders and pulled him off while two others held Hot Shot back. Spot thrashed against his captors as the other boy hurled insults at him. They pinned him against the wall as his vision cleared.

 “Tell your Hatten boy he’s next on my list.” Hot Shot yelled as he was tugged away.

 “Spot, that’s enough. You’s done.” Itey said firmly as he held the boy to the wall.

 Spot spat the blood from his mouth and quickly took inventory of the damage. His knuckles were bruised, his left hand was swelling already, just sprained, hopefully. He probed his face as his nose poured blood and tilted to the side, definitely broken. Fat lip, black eye, broken nose and maybe hand too. Nothing detrimental. He let his head fall back against the wall as regret flooded him. That didn’t go as planned.

 Spot pushed past Itey storming away. He didn’t make it out of the square when Itey caught up to him. He grabbed Spot’s shoulder making him spin on his heel fist raised, ready for round two.

 Itey held his hands up in surrender “look man I just wan’ ta talk. A lots gone down these past few days. Getcha papes sell with me and ‘ll fill ya in. Sound good?”

 “Fine.” Spot stomped off towards the circulation desk glaring daggers at the rest of his boys. He ordered twenty papers instead of his normal one hundred fifty. The faster he sold the faster he could get back to Racer. He had left his paper bag at the hospital, so he folded the stack and held it under his arm. His agitation had ebbed slightly as he made his way back to Itey flipping through the headlines of The Brooklyn Daily Eagle.

 “Alright, lay it on me what’d I miss.” The two turned out of the square and headed towards the docks.

 “I gotta tell ya it’s been a tough couple days. We can’t survive without ya boss.” Itey said forcing out a small laugh “they oversold the beds again.”

 “It’s winter.” Spot said a little annoyed ”Hill always does that, double up bunks, same as every year.”

 “You don’ get it. We’s got six hundit kids piled in there, a bunch of the littles took sick afta you left and Superintendent Hill, he’s chargin’ double what normal rent is. Hill knows we gonna pay it because the other option is what this?” He gestured vaguely to the city around them as the icy wind bit their cheeks.

 “Tell me you’s kidding.” Itey shrugged as Spot chewed his thumb nail running numbers in his head. “What you mean he doubled the rent?”

 “Well not doubled but it’s a dime a day now.”

 “Per bed or per boy?”

 “Per boy.”

 “When’d that change?”

 “Two days afta you left, somethin’ about demand an’ supplies?”

 Spot pinched the bridge of his nose to think, quickly pulling off as it painfully reminded him it was broken. The Brooklyn lodgings maxed out at 450 boys with them doubling up, at 600 they had to be bursting at the seams. “Did ya put three littles ta a bed?”

 “Yeah and we still have kids all over the floors. We tried sendin’ some elsewheres but everywhere’s full”

 “How many are sick did ya say?” Spot’s face flushed remembering how he found Race _that_ afternoon. He remembered screaming at Jack for not taking better care of his kids and now he was doing the same.

 “Twenty? Maybe a few more? None are that bad though. You know how they go, once one little sneezes they’s all down for the count. Skittery’s been real good with wranglin’ them.”  

 Spot nodded at the assessment “How’ve you been on food..?” He trailed off.

 “Not good but no ones starvin’ yet so that’s a plus.” Itey looked Spot over, all of the boys were always a bit scrawny this time of year but Spot’s face had filled out a touch these past few days with the nurses feeding the boys every chance they got. “what about you where you been eatin’ and sleepin’?”

 “With Race.” His words had a bite to them he didn’t intend on. Spot shuffled his small stack of papers avoiding eye contact. “I’m sorry all this happened, I’ll handle it. But Race, he needed me.”

 “Look man I don’t want to tell you how to live your life but you can’t be puttin one Hattan boy in front of all of Brooklyn. We need you.”

 

 That night Spot and Itey filed in with the rest of the newsies around 7. Spot barely recognized the place in its state of complete bedlam. The place was crawling with kids and not in its normal way. There was barely room to move, fights were breaking out left and right as kids argued over who was sleeping on the couches that night. Spot’s ears rang from the dull roar of consistent screaming. He hopped up onto a table to properly survey his kingdom. It was absolute chaos.

 He counted no less than four scuffles going on in the living room alone. There was a child in the corner crying, a wrestling match happening over the couches, some kids watching and others placing bets, but all of them were screaming to speak over the ruckus. Spot hopped down and waded his way through the sea of people to the dining room which had fallen into the same level of anarchy as the rest of the house.

 Spot grinned as he watched the house descend into utter pandemonium. Itey saddled up next to him “What ya smiling’ at Conlon?”

 Spot shook his head with a quick “Nothin’ just gots an idea.”

 Spot worked his way up the stairs to check on the sick littles in the bunk room. He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized Itey had been right. They were all okay just colds and running noses. He went bed to bed checking on each of them asking how they were feeling, checking temperatures with the back of his hand, and tucking them in when necessary.

 “I knew you had a soft spot for my boys.” Skittery joked leaning against the door frame as he caught Spot brushing the hair off of one of the sleeping littles’ forehead.

 “Get hosed, Skit” Spot rolled his eyes as he finished tucking the strand behind the little ones ear. “Tell anyone and I’ll-”

 “I know boss I know you’ll knock my block off.”

 “An’ don’t you forget it.” Spot said wrapping up his visit before heading back downstairs to put his plan into motion.

 

 Spot worked his way through the common areas until he got to Superintendent Hill’s office. He rapt sharply on the door a few times, unsure if he could be heard over the cacophony. Mister Hill opened the door and Spot barged in with an overly cheerful “Evenin’ sir.”

 “What can I do for you Sean.” Mister Hill asked dryly as he massaged his temples.

 “Oh nothin for me this fine day sir I was hopin’ I could do somethin’ for you.” Spot popped up to sit on the desk and swung his feet back and forth. “Linnaeus? Can I call you Linnaeus?”

 “No.”

 “Okay, Linnaeus my boy I wanna get a good nights sleep tonight and from the looks of it you do too. Now that ain’t gonna happen with that racket going on out there.” Spot hopped off down and circled back to sit in the large leather chair behind the desk. “Now I have a premonition for you.”

 “Proposition.” He corrected.

 “Tomato, potato you knows what I mean.” He kicked his feet up onto the desk and put his hands behind his head lounging “I can get those boys to settle in a second if you put the price back where it ought to be and we can all go to bed.”

 “Get out of my chair boy. Its supply and demand you wouldn’t understand it.”

 “You’re right. But I do understand the Children’s Aid Society would probably be more than interested to hear about the overcrowding an’ price hike even though this place is supposed to be, what’s the word, ‘charitable?’” Spot said smugly wrapping the last word in air quotes.

 “You’d all be on the streets.” Mister Hill countered.

 “You might be right, but uh buddy I hate to break it to ya but you’d be right out there with us. An’ we’d all handle it far better than you ever could. Drop the price and ain’t nobody need to know. An ta sweeten the deal I’ll get my crew ta settle for at least the night.”

 As if on cue there was a large bang of something shattering followed by an uproar of shrieking laughter.

 Mister Hill wrung his hands as he glanced at the door “You’re bluffing.”

 “Sir I don’ bluff. I will take this so far above your head you’ll see stars. You want governor Roosevelt in on this ‘cause I don’t wanna make that call but...” he trailed off.

 Mister Hill scoffed at him.

 “You really think ‘m bluffin’ well let me tell you something Linny,” Spot smirked as he gestured to the crucifix that hung on the wall “you have your friends in high places, and I have mine.”  

 Spot leaned back in the chair spreading his arms with a smile as the dull roar surrounded them. Something crashed in the bunk room above making the pendant light on the ceiling sway and flicker. Spot grinned looking up at it “your move.”

 Mister Hill rubbed at his eyes exasperated “I’ll drop the price tomorrow if you can control these damn animals.”

 “Then we expect a hot breakfast to be waitin’ for us first thing. I mean they did technically pay for it.” Spot pressed his luck.

 “Fine.”

 Spot flashed him a toothy grin and spat into his hand before they shook on it.

 

Spot closed the door to the office with a cheery wave Itey leaned against the office wall  watching as the kids ran amuck.

 “How’d it go?”

 “Price is back and we got food for tomorrow. Wanna help me organize this lot?” Without waiting for answer Spot leapt up onto the dining room table. “Good evenin’ gents!” He called as a hush fell over the room “Seems Mister Hill was a little confused by the financial runnin’s of this fine establishment but we’s all square now an we’s got hot food come morning. Then we’s back to business as usual.” Boys piled in from the living room to hear Spot’s announcements. “Now since we’s got extra guests we’s gonna need to be strategic about sleeping. Find yourselves a bed buddy and line up Itey here will give ya your bunk number. Lights out is in two hours and I expect this place to be in some order before that.”

 Spot hopped down and took a seat at the table next to Itey as the kids scrambled to find a friend and line up. The two drew up an outline of the six bunk rooms. Sorting the rooms by age they were able to squeeze the extra 150 kids into beds here and there. The littles, 9 years old and under in one bunk room with Skittery having his own bed, after that things turned to a free for all.

 By the time it was lights out the lodging house was back in order. Itey made his rounds doing a final head count as Spot tidied the living quarters.

 He was sweeping up some broken glass when Mister Hill poked his head out of the office door. “How’d you manage that boy?”

 Spot rolled his eyes as he dumped the shards into the trash. “Magic.”  

 

 It was well past midnight by the time Spot and Itey made their way up to Spot’s cramped attic room. It was an honor to be invited into the private quarters, Itey had only been in there one before due to the same circumstances of overcrowding in the bunk rooms. Itey flipped out his bed roll onto the floor as Spot crawled into his makeshift bed. The pallet beneath the thin mattress creaked as he got comfortable. By the time Itey’s soft snores filled the room Spot was still fidgeting under his covers despite his exhaustion. An hour or so later he realized the issue, he couldn’t get comfortable without the weight of Racer beside him.

 There always seemed to be more of Racetrack when he slept. Every night started the same, he’d curl up as small as he could and lean on Spot just a bit, then minute by minute he’d unfurl and spread himself all over the bed regardless of the other occupant. Spot had found it mildly annoying to wake up with an entire person covering him like a gangly throw rug but now he couldn’t sleep without it.

 Taking a deep breath he gave up attempting to sleep. He slipped out of bed, out the tiny window, and onto the roof. The icy wind turning his cheeks a bright red as he anxiously paced back and forth on the rooftop. He shut his eyes for a moment trying to steady his nerves. Brooklyn had no intentions of quieting below him no matter how hard the king wished for silence. There were sirens in the distance that rang clear as a bell, they blended with the sound of the mills and the trains rolling in and out of the station. All he wanted was a moments peace but even in the dead of night the city was unrelenting. Spot rubbed a hand over his face ignoring the flash of pain it ignited, he tangled his fingers in his own hair and roared in frustration. He didn’t understand at what or at who but if his city wouldn’t quiet for him he’d join in its buzz.

 For the first time in Spot’s life the city didn’t give him the comfort he wanted, he felt cold and empty even surrounded by hundreds of boys in the house below. He wanted his best friend and in the moment he’d hand the throne over to Hot Shot on a silver platter if it meant being by Racetrack’s side again.

 Spot laid himself down on the rooftop letting the din and cold surround him. He’d never once questioned abandoning Brooklyn before, he loved his title as well as his boys. He couldn’t just leave them, the passing of power was never an irenic occasion. The other boroughs had a hierarchy, but not Brooklyn, Brooklyn had an all out fight to the death that could take place at the drop of a hat and Spot wasn’t quite ready to lose that fight.

 Spot spent the night anxiously pacing a rut in the roof worrying about everything from the lot below his feet to the boy in a hospital bed across the river. What if he was worse by the time Spot got back to him, or what if he was leaps and bounds better now that he left his side.

 Spot crawled back through his window as the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. He had only laid down for 5 minutes when the morning bell rang through the skies. Itey stretched out on his bed roll for a minute before getting up to ready himself for the day. By the time Spot had managed to drag himself from his mattress the lodging house was already in full swing.

 

Mister Hill didn’t squelch on his promises of breakfast. Spirits ran high as the boys darted in and out of the kitchens grabbing plates piled high with eggs, potatoes, toast, pastries and fresh fruit. The boys all relished in the luxury of a hot meal. Spot grabbed an apple as a group of little came running around the corner fighting over a donut. Business as usual.

 Bumlets trotted up to Spot they both stood taking in the mornings hubbub. He rested his arm on Spot’s shoulder “Ya did good Half-pint.”  

 Spot answered him with three good-natured punches to the stomach.

 Bumlets laughed a second then leaned on him again. “Seriously though, we don’t stand a chance without ya. So thanks.” He said through a mouthful of donut and was soon distracted by someone calling his name on the other side of the room.

 Spot smirked as he was left to gaze upon the insanity that was his kingdom.

 

Shortly after all the sweets were demolished Spot ushered the crew to the circulation desk with ease. With everyone buzzing with sugar and full bellies there was no one dawdling behind this morning. Spot stood to the side as everyone filed in the gates when he spotted Itey he grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him to the side with him.

 “Hey man what the hell” Itey snapped at him wriggling free of his hold.

 “Sorry. I have to go check on Race.” Itey raised an eyebrow “No don’t look at me like that, if anyone asks I forgot somethin’ at the house. Keep an eye on Hot Shot. You’s runnin’ the show today. Good luck.” Spot turned to take off when Itey grabbed his shoulder.

 “You better be back tonight. I ain’t gonna make your choose between him an’ us but I know a few who will.” Spot nodded in understanding and took off like a shot.

 

As soon as he crossed the bridge, he slowed his pace and walked the rest of way absentmindedly to the hospital. The hushed voices of the waiting room that greeted him were an absolute contrast from the rumble of the city just outside the doors. He made his way to the elevator when a sharp gasp snapped him back into focus.

 “Baby!” Nurse Bessie cried abandoning her cart and rushing forward to him. She grabbed Spot by the chin and turned his head side to side inspecting his injuries. “Just what did you do?”

 “Mornin’ Miss Bessie” he replied sweetly avoiding the question as she gently probed around his eyes and nose.

 “You leave for a day and come back looking like a guttersnipe.” She raked her fingers through his dark hair and pressed a light kiss to his forehead.

 “That’s me.” Spot beamed at her tender use of the word. It was typically thrown at him with such malice he couldn’t help but smile hearing it used as a term of endearment. She let go of him and began bustling about her cart looking for something to wipe his face with. “So how’s he doing?” He asked not sure as to what answer he wanted.

 She continued digging around without bothering to look up “he’s just fine, one of your little friends stopped by and they snuck out for a walk so the poor dear is all tuckered out.” She paused pulling out some gauze and looked him over again. “We have to get you cleaned up first.” Before he could protest she took him by the hand and hurried off to the back.

 They turned a corner and entered a vacant triage room. She motioned for Spot to have a seat but he stood stalk still. “Miss I can’t pay for this, really ‘m fine I just wanna see Race.”

 She took out a white cloth running it under the sink and tutted at him “It’s on the house. Now sit honey, Anthony is doing just fine without you.” Spot’s heart sank and he obliged.

 He was doing well, he was doing just fine without him. Spot’s fears were confirmed, by a medical professional, Race was doing so poorly because of Spot not in spite of him.

 Nurse Bessie hummed gently to him as scrubbed the dirt of the city off of his face. Spot began to relax into the warm cloth, the soft murmurings and tender hands worked with a maternal touch he had long forgotten. His eyes began to close down, from the comfort or exhaustion he couldn’t be sure. By the time the woman began dabbing the cuts with iodine, Spot was asleep sitting upright.

 She woke him up with a light ‘boop’ on the nose “There we go baby clean as a whistle.”

 Spot blinked blearily, smiled and offered a small “thanks”.

 “Any time dear. Now you can go up in a bit but how about we find you a nice couch to take a little nap on in the lobby hmm?” He opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off “no excuses both of my boys need their rest. Come on I’ll find you a blanket.”

 Nurse Bessie tucked Spot in with minimal protest, smoothing his hair until he fell asleep.

 

An hour or so later Spot sat bolt upright glancing over his surroundings in a sleepy haze. After a moments realization he headed for the elevator to get to Race’s ward unsure of what he was going to say. He plodded along down the long hall and stopped before entering. Race was sitting cross legged at the head of the bed pouring over one of the library books. Spot couldn’t help but grin as he leaned against the door frame watching him work.

Racetrack’s face was screwed tight in concentration as his right hand formed the shapes and his lips uttered the letters. A carrot stick dangled from the corner of his mouth today instead of his usual cigar. Spot knocked gently on the door and stepped inside. Racer spotted his visitor out of the corner of his eye, his ears instantly flushed red as he quickly slammed the book shut and stuffed it behind him like a guilty child.

 “Hiya Spottie” Racer beamed as he recognized his guest unconsciously scooting over in the bed vacating Spot’s usual corner. “Wanna see somethin’ neat...” he stopped as he noticed the dark bruises littering Spot’s face ”What happened to you?”

 “Nothing. What did ya wanna show me.”

 “Just that I can hear the carrot crunch.” Race replied quickly “seriously what happened?”

 Spot perched on the edge of the armchair resting his chin in his hand unconsciously blocking his mouth. He tried deciding whether to avoid the topic or just tell him straight out. “Brooklyn bullshit.” Race cocked his head not understanding but the words kept tumbling out of Spot’s mouth as the anger built back up. Spot unloaded everything about the past day away as Race tried to pick words out here and there. All he could grasp was the fury that radiated off of him.

 Spot spoke too fast, there was too many hand gestures, and not enough eye contact. Race crawled to the bottom of the bed to sit across from him. He reached out and placed a hand on Spot’s shoulder which was promptly swatted away.

 “Spot please.” Race begged pushing the paper and pencil towards him “I don’ understand.”

 Spot just kept going, yelling something about Hot Shot gesturing to his face.

 “Please” he tried again holding out the paper growing more and more nervous by the second. Race was well acquainted with Spot’s explosions but he had always been able to follow them and offer advice until this point.

 Spot snatched the paper and pen and threw them across the room “God damnit Racer I don’ wanna write!”

 Race retreated back into his bed as memories of his father's face twisted in the same rage flashed before his eyes.

 “I don’ want to write I want to talk to my best friend an-“ He trailed off a second “an’ I can’t.” Spot scrubbed an angry tear from the corner of his eye.

 Race reached out a shaking hand trying to bring his friend back to him “What did JoJo tell you?” his voice quavered, he could feel his vocal cords hitch.

 “What are you talking ‘bout?” Spot snapped pacing the floor “Just stay outta Brooklyn it ain’t safe for you.”

 “Spot.” Tears pricked at the corner of Race’s eyes as he was able to decipher the last sentence. His invitation to his favorite part of New York had been revoked and he had no clue as to why.  The mix of fear and confusion slowly bubbled in his belly “Spottie, please.”

 “You understand me? No more Brooklyn.” He repeated firmly. Race gave in to the demands with a quick nod.  

 

Spot turned his back to the bed trying to pull himself together. None of this was Race’s fault, he knew that he was being unfair he didn’t intend to unload this any of this on him. Between the stress of Race’s illness and the state he’d found Brooklyn in he knew eventually he’d over boil he just never planned on it being here. Spot closed his eyes and breathed deeply in attempt to calm himself.

 Racer got out of bed on shaky legs and crossed the room to his friend. Not trusting his voice Race laid a hand on Spot’s shoulder.

 In a knee jerk reaction Spot grabbed the hand spun on his heel, hand raised ready to strike. Spot stopped himself before he made contact but the damage had already been done. “Shit.”

 Memories of his father flooded Race as he scrambled backwards into the corner until he felt the wall against his back. He pulled his knees to his chest apologizing with fervour as Spot approached.

 He felt everything at once his heart beating out of his chest, the sweat prickling on his forehead his lungs refusing to cooperate. “I’s sorry sir, I’s sorry.” Race repeated as a mantra. Race screwed his eyes shut as every muscle began to shake. “I’s sorry”

 Spot knelt next to his trembling form, his own apologies falling on Race’s deaf ears. Racer looked up from his knees and upon seeing Spot’s face shrunk inside himself even more.

 Spot’s hands hovered over him not daring to touch him. He heard Race’s breaths coming fast and sharp. He’d seen Race have these attacks only twice before but never had he been the one to cause them. He had always relied on talking Race and the rest of his boys out of these episodes. Today words were useless. Unsure of what else to do Spot found the string attached to the bells above the bed and rang for the nurses. “I’m so so sorry Tony.”

 One of the orderlies trotted in a moment later, quickly assessed the situation and called for backup. The three men pushed Spot to the side he immediately rushed forward again when another orderly gripped Spot firmly about the shoulder as the others grabbed Race to lift him back into the bed causing him to scream.

 “Stop it!” Spot bellowed “Stop you’re scaring him!” One of the men wrestled the black rubber mask over the thrashing boys face as he screamed. His piercing blue eyes met Spot’s, they were wild with fear. “I’m sorry.” Spot choked out hot tears rolling down his cheeks as the largest man jabbed a syringe into Race’s thigh causing his breath to even out and eyes to flutter shut.

 The orderly released Spot as soon as Race was completely sedated. He stumbled back into the wall and collapsed onto the floor in tears.

 Shortly after the orderlies left one of the younger nurses came scrambling in to check Race’s vitals. She glared at Spot as she took Race’s pulse. Spot watched her intently as she wrote notes on her clipboard. “I think it’s best if you leave now.” She snipped at him as she stowed her pen behind her ear. Her tone made it clear it wasn’t up for debate.

 Spot nodded and rose to leave as she left the room. Spot glanced back at Race, he couldn’t leave without an explanation. He grabbed the piece of paper that Race tried to give him earlier and began scribbling.

 

_I’m sorry Tony._

 

Spot couldn’t find the words to say. To write. He wanted nothing more than to go back in time, crawl into the bed and let time pass them by. Not worrying about anything but each other. He folded the paper and left it on Race’s bedside table. Spot covered his eyes with both hands in regret, he pulled one down to take one final look at Race. Spot reached out a hand to smooth one of his curls that was out of place but couldn’t bring himself to actually touch the boy. A few hot tears rolled down his cheeks. He did this. This could have all been avoided. He did this to his Racer. He came to say goodbye until the air cleared but instead ruined everything in a second. Turning to leave the room Spot stole one final peek over his shoulder, and whispered a final apology into the room.

 Spot took the long way to the bridge as he attempted to mentally prepare himself for whatever coup was brewing on the other side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think good bad or indifferent please!


	5. Chapter Five

The following weeks crawled by at a snail's pace. With Christmas fast approaching and the frigid weather outside Race’s visits from his friends were far and few between. Nine days after Spot’s final visit Race was feeling far better than he had in weeks. The talk of his imminent discharge set him a glow with happiness. As much as he enjoyed having three solid meals and a soft bed every night he couldn’t wait to get back to the hustle and bustle of the lodging house.

 

One evening Jack came for a visit. As he walked down the hallway he noted the faces of the workers seemed more harried than usual. He came upon Race’s room to be greeted with an empty bed. Jack flopped into an armchair when he heard a familiar voice from down the hall yell “Me again! Pay up old man!” Jack rose to follow the sound and found Race sitting at the bedside of an elderly gentleman shuffling cards as Race counted out his next bet from the mountain of penny candy beside him. Jack couldn’t tell which of the two looked happier. He knocked on the door, the old man waved him in as Race turned to greet him with a smile.

 

“Hiya Jackie.” He smiled “Mr. Reynold’s this is my friend Jack.”

 

Jack shook the man’s hand “Pleasure to meet you sir. I hope he’s not bein’ muchof a bother.”

 

The man smiled widely revealing his gums and shook his head chuckling. Without the constant company of the newsboys Racetrack chose to make friends where he could find them. After one of the nurses let slip that Mr. Reynold’s had had no visitors in the past year, he made it his personal mission to change that.

 

“He don’t talk I don’t listen we’s a good pair.” Race explained patting the man’s hand with a grin “Have a seat I’ll deal you in.” he shoved half of his pile of sweets towards Jack so he’d have something to bet and the game began.

 

“Scootch.” Jack demanded as Race moved over on his small wooden wheelchair and Jack wedged in beside him “So how you feelin’ kid? You look good.” Jack asked pressing the back of his hand to Race’s cool forehead.

 

“Feelin’ good, if ‘m being honest I just wanna be home. I’s gettin’ too spoiled here.” Race said popping a piece of candy into his mouth.

 

Jack ruffled his hair once and picked up his pile of cards. “We all miss ya it ain’t the same without your dumbass running about. Think you’ll be out by Christmas?” Jack scribbled hastily on the corner of the newspaper he kept in his back pocket. The old man gave him a disapproving look when he wrote the curse word and waggled his finger in disappointment. “‘M sorry.”

 

“It’s fine sir.” Race explained patting the man's hand again before turning to Jack. “The one nurse let slip I may be out Friday if I keep up this way.” Race said with a smile, he looked over the top of his cards to see Mr. Reynolds drifting in and out of sleep with the cards still fanned in his hand. Race motioned towards the door and quietly stood up out of the wheelchair, he scooped the candy from the table back into a paper bag leaving the old man with a promise to be back later and his pile of 10 candies behind. The two walked back to Race’s room as Jack shadowed him, he was still wobbly but noticeably better than before.

 

They made it to the suite in no time. Racer flopped into one of the arm chairs with a content sigh as Jack jumped into the bed lounging on the massive collection of pillows. “Friday huh?” He asked receiving a nod from Race “That’s great kid. Kath and I can pick you up. Miss Medda is doin’ a Christmas show for all a us an having’ a party Saturday. I didn’ wanna tell you in case you’s were stuck here.” Jack bounced with excitement as he continued to ramble on.

 

Race grinned being able to pick out every other word as Jack told him about the plans for the holidays, the parties planned, the hanukkah games Davey was teaching them, and how excited everyone was to have him home.

 

“Spot can come too of course.” Jack tacked on at the end “Where is that pain in the ass anyway?”

 

Racer’s face fell, he hadn’t seen Spot since their misunderstanding. “He’s back in Brooklyn handling his brood.” He said suddenly becoming very interested with a freckle on his ankle.

 

“Race?” Jack asked unsatisfied, flapping a hand at him to get his attention “where’s Spot?”

 

“With Brooklyn.” He spat back “or Timbuktu or somewhere certainly not here. I haven’ seen him in more than a week.”

 

“What happened? He promised he’d keep eyes on you for me.”

 

“So now I need babysat?” Racer stood up and began pacing a bit.

 

“No.” Jack said firmly as he rose. He put his hands on Race’s shoulders forcing him to look at his lips. “I was going to stay. Spot insisted on being the one to keep you company. Tell me what happened, it’s more than him checking on Brooklyn.”

 

Race plopped down defeated focused on his hands and took a deep breath considering what parts to gloss over. “He left after you came by that morning and when he turned up he was beat to hell. I don’t know what happened he started talking’ then yellin’ I tried to get him to write it for me but he just got more pissed then he kicked me outta Brooklyn an’ left, he hasn’ been back since. So I guess he hates me an that’s that.”

 

“He kicked you out of Brooklyn? Why?” Jack scrunched his nose in thought.

 

Racer threw his hands into the air exasperated “JoJo can’t keep his mouth shut is my guess.”

 

“Wait what? What’s JoJo got to do with any of this?”

 

“JoJo came by that night and I told him something dumb.” Race mumbled picking at his thumb nail.

 

“What did you tell him?” he prompted.

 

“Nothing!” Race snapped back annoyed. “We just talked about Spot bein’ here alla time.”

 

Jack’s eyes went wide in understanding. “Let me get this straight, you think JoJo told Spot that you like him. Spot got pissed and screamed at you then left?” Jack whispered so his lips could be read but no unfriendly ears could overhear.

 

“He told you too?” Racer yelled scrubbing his hand over his face in an attempt to hide the fact it was flushing bright red.

 

“No one told me dumbass. We all know.” Jack slung an arm over the boys shoulders pulling him in for a side hug.

 

“Who told Spot then?”Asked Race genuinely confused.

 

“Buddy.” Jack said slowly “No one told him shit. He likes you too in case you haven’t picked up on it yet. He might have been mad but it wasn’t over you having a crush.”

 

Racer stared at him completely bewildered, unable to speak. The gears in his head started turning as he recalled the fight, the words he was able to pick out here and there suddenly making more sense in a different context. “What do I do?” he squeaked out after a moments thought

 

“Try talking with him maybe?” Jack offered.

 

“Why would you think he liked me? He’s not the type to be a...” he trailed off unsure of the word he was looking for “to like a boy like that.”

 

“Spot Conlon spent two and a half weeks holding you... every hour of the day… in bed. Until everyone in this damn hospital was suspicious, well everyone ‘cept you. I think its fair to say he may have a slight crush.” Jack teased ruffling his.

 

“You really think so?”Racer asked trying not to sound too hopeful.

 

“Come on kid I raised you smarter than this!” Jack flopped across Race’s lap feigning annoyance. “Talk to him.”

 

Race shoved Jack off of him and onto the floor. He landed with a thud that shook the floor under Racer’s socked feet sending the blond into a fit of laughter. Jack pulled his knees to his chest as he rubbed his behind. He took a minute to appreciate the joy Race exuded not realizing just how much he missed his little brother until that moment.

 

“Take a pic’ture it’ll last ya longer” Race joked, poking Jack in the side with his toes, as he noticed his gaze.

 

Jack shoved the boys feet away roughly earning more laughs “Your ugly mug will break the camera.”

 

They teased each other the rest of night. Reminiscing past prank wars, fist fights, foot races, and everything in between. Their raucous laughter filled the halls until well past lights out. No one on staff could bring themselves to quiet boys, and since the ward was relatively empty they let them carry on until they both tired themselves out.

 

The morning bell woke Jack he shot up, not remembering falling asleep on the floor. He turned and sawRacer fast asleep as he sat upside down in the chair, his legs looped over the back and his head dangling off the seat, his face deep red with the blood rush. Jack patted his cheek waking him and forcing him to move to a more comfortable position. Race grumbled as he curled up in the armchair like a house cat. Jack threw a blanket over him and went to talk with the nurses before heading out. He came bounding back into the room minutes later, pockets overflowing with biscuits, wrote a quick note that said _‘We’s bustin’ you out tomorrow’_ , and headed for newsies’ square.

 

By the time he made it to the square almost everyone already had their papers. He took a quick headcount as Crutchie came over to him. “Everything look good Jack?” He asked nervously. Every time Jack stepped out for the night Race took over as leader but last night it was Crutchie’s first turn at the gig. There were bags under his eyes from lack of sleep and his hair was a mess under his hat but everyone else around them looked neat as a pin. The littles hands and faces weren’t covered in grime for once, everyone’s hair was tidy and some of them even had clean clothes on.

 

“Everything looks great kid.” Jack smirked slinging his arm across Crutchie’s shoulders “I mean look at this lot, I may have to put you in charge more often.”

 

He was greeted back by a chorus of“NO’s” from the boys around them followed by strings of complaints that he couldn’t keep count of.

 

“- he’s awful…”

 

“...powermad!”

 

“-wash up??”

 

“-laundry!”

 

Jack picked words out here and there from the complaints and friendly jeers. He turned towards Crutchie and crossed his arms “What you do to my boys Crutch?”

 

“Well technically they’s was mine, and I made ‘em be civilized for once.” He said with a smirk.

 

“That’s what I like to hear!” Jack beaming with pride, clapped Crutchie on the back so hard he stumbled a step.

 

The two chatted as they walked to the center of the square, Jack hopped up onto the Horace Greeley statue and called his group to order. “Gentlemen I has an announcement before you’s hit the streets. You want the bad news or good news first?” He waited as they called back “Bad news is Crutchie is runnin’ the show again tomorrow,” Friendly quips rose from the crew as Crutchie laughed beside him. “Ah quit ya whinin’ he does a bettah job than me anyhow. Good news is Racer comes home tomorrow!” This announcement was met with a series of cheers and claps.Jack waved his hands silencing them “I need you to not act like damn animals when he gets back. Al no jumpin’ on him. Finch wait a bit ‘fore shootin’ ‘im. Just be easy got it?”

 

The boys all agreed and happily chattered among themselves before heading out to their selling spots for the day. Jack collected his papers from the Delancy’s ignoring their jabs about Race’s whereabouts, everyone had silently decided the less the brothers knew about Race’s new affliction the better.

 

“Crutchie wait up.” Jack called after him. He jogged to Crutchie’s side and the two walked out of the square together when they were out of earshot of the Delancy’s he spoke again. “I need another favor.”

 

Crutchie furrowed his eyebrows “Anything.”

 

Jack took a deep breath trying to piece together how to word his request. “I need you to take the lead on this whole Racer situation.”

 

“What Racer situation?” Crutchie asked playing dumb.

 

“You know” Jack pointed at his own ears “The situation. You’s both kinda in the same boat you know?” Jack tried, Crutchie raised his eyebrows almost daring him to say more. “I mean you deal with this all the time.” Jack gestured at the crutch “Maybe you can teach him how to deal with it too?”

 

Crutchie clasped a hand to his chest in mock horror “My God Jack! What happened to his leg?”

 

“Shuddup” Jack said shoving him gently “You know what I mean.”

 

“I do. I also know there’s nothing I can teach him that you can’t. None of us know what he’s dealin’ with so we’s just gonna let _him_ take the lead on this whole ‘Racer situation’.”He mocked wrapping the final words in air quotes. Jack frowned but nodded in agreement. Crutchie nudged him getting his attention again “Hey, don’ you know that we’s a family? We can handle this.” they walked in amiable silence before parting ways to head to their own selling posts.

 

Jack returned late that evening, his head was in the clouds most of the day, blaming it on a lousy headline he returned a quarter of his papers back to the desk that evening. When he opened the door of the lodging house he was hit in the face with the smell of cleansers. Every which way he looked there was someone scrubbing, mopping, dusting, or sweeping. Hoots of laughter filled the air as the boys cleaned the house from top to bottom. Jack made his way back to Kloppman’s office, knocking once on the door he let himself in to find Katherine and Mr. Kloppman chatting with each other.

 

“Ace what are you doin’ here?” Jack asked pulling a dust bunny out of her curls.

 

“She came by this afternoon and told me she was taking over for the night. I had no choice.” Mr. Kloppman grinned, something crashed in the kitchen and he hurried off to assess the damage leaving the two a moments peace.

 

“The hospital called today. They said Race is ready to come home tomorrow morning isn’t that wonderful!” Katherine gave out a little squeal of delight before continuing “the woman I spoke to was insistent that the house be well cleaned before she would and I quote ‘give him back’ to us. So I’ve been here since eleven.”

 

Jack stared at her dumbstruck. She was covered in grime, her hair was disheveled and a sheen of sweat was on her forehead, but in that moment he never loved her more. Without speaking he pulled her in for a tight hug, he pressed a kiss into her hair and whispered “Thank you, thank you so much for well...” he trailed off unable to finish his thought.

 

“No need to thank me.” She said rubbing his back “They may be your family, baby but you are all my boys.”

 

He pulled away a little bit to look her in the eyes. “How can I ever repay you?”

 

Katherine leaned forward and nipped gently at his ear lobe “I’m sure I’ll think of something” she breathed flirtatiously as he leaned into the touch.

 

“Like what?” he goaded

 

She gently kissed up from the base of his throat back up to his ear eliciting soft whines of delight as herhands traveled down his back to the waistband of his pants. “Like…” she whispered nipping at his ear again “Scrubbing the toilets.” She pulled away leaving him one last friendly peck on the cheek before leaving the room to continue helping disinfect the lodgings.

 

“Kath’rine” he whined breathlessly after her “That ain’t fair.”

 

“We left them just for you baby.” She called over her shoulder “Scrub-a-dub-dub.”

 

Jack pouted at her as she blew a kiss back at him. He marched off upstairs to join the cleaning brigade. As much as they all hated cleaning he couldn’t help but smile, the boys had a way to make a game out of everything. Mush and Blink were racing to see who could wash and change the linens the fastest. Elmer and Finch had a bet on who could sweep up the most dirt in each room bringing their full dust pans to Albert to make the final judgement. While Les orchestrated the other littles into a well oiled window cleaning battalion complete with barking drill sergeant style orders.

 

When a room was finally spotless someone would call Katherine down to appraise their handywork. The boys stood like soldiers with proud grins on their faces as she took a quick glance around and praised them fiercely for a job well done. With all the games going on it seemed to take no time before the house was immaculate, no one realized it was well past two in the morning when they started turning in for the night. Jack found Katherine an old shirt and pants to sleep in as well as a bunk to herself as he doubled up with Crutchie in the bed next to her’s. The entire house was asleep before anyone even remembered to turn out the lights.

 

When the morning bell rang a collective groan filled each of the bunk rooms. Les wiggled away from Davey, jumped out of bed and rushed over to Jack who squeezed his eyes tight in hopes of a catching a few more minutes of sleep. Les called his name a few times before poking Jack’s shoulder to wake him up.

 

“Touch me again ‘fore sunrise an ‘ll rip your arms off and beat you with them.” Jack mumbled turning away from the jabs.

 

“Good you’re up!” Les sat on the side of the bed careful not to make contact with Jack. “You’s gonna go get him now right?” He asked bouncing up and down on the thin mattress. Jack turned and groaned.

 

“Davey put it on a leash.” Jack complained pulling his pillow over his eyes.

 

Katherine heard the ruckus from the neighboring bunk she opened her eyes and stretched her arms out to Les with a “come here baby.” He wasted no time burrowing under the covers with her, she closed her eyes and rested her chin on his soft hair as he chatted happily away.

 

By the time everyone had dragged themselves out of bed and to the circulation desk it made no sense, timewise for Katherine to head back home. After insisting that she wanted to try her hand selling papers Jack split his stack of 75 with her. She tried for a few hours with little luck despite the fantastic headline of “Girl Does Murder To Defend Her Honor.” Katherine sounded a little to pleased calling out the headline of a woman shooting a would be assailant through the heart. Jack on the opposite street corner sold his papers in record time he plodded over and sold her half of them as well.

Half way through the lunch rush they were out of papers and on the street car to Roosevelt Hospital. Chilled to the bone she snuggled up to Jack’s shoulder for the ride. About half way through the ride she piped up against his shoulder “Jack?” he hummed his acknowledgment and she continued “Why couldn’t I sell as well as you did? Do you think its because I’m a girl?”

 

Jack chuckled “I think its because you sounded so happy someone got murdered. Ya gotta give the facts not be giddy about them.”

 

“He had it coming.” She said with a smirk.

 

“Case and point Ace.” He placed a light kiss on her forehead before turning back to the paper that he had kept for himself.

 

As the street car approached the hospital Jack became completely overjoyed. The fact that after more than a month they would finally have the old Racer back in the lodging house dawned on him the closer they got. Katherine tugged the string as they approached their stop. Jack hardly waited for the wheels to slow before hopping off and jogging for the lobby. Katherine caught up to him as he was ringing for the elevator. “Take it easy cowboy.” She soothed as he pressed the call bell 5 more times in rapid succession.

 

When they arrived on Race’s floor they had to go no further than the nurses station to find him. Race was sprawled out on the countertop using a mountain of paperwork as a pillow as he tossed a red rubber ball up and down bouncing it off the ceiling. Jack snuck up carefully staying out of sight he smacked Race’s shoulder making hims shoot up off the counter and tumble onto the floor bringing down a flurry of paperwork with him. Race glared up at Jack as he pulled him to his feet. “You ready to go kid?”

 

Race nodded and hugged both of them hello as Nurse Bessie approached the three of them pulling a paper bag from her cart. She began unloading 4 small glass bottles containing different medicines. “Now which of you can I trust with these?” She asked looking at Jack and Katherine, Race raised his hand to volunteer. “Not you I know you too well at this point baby. Go pack your things I think Santa may have left a little something on your bed too.” Racer grinned as he was shooed away.

 

“I’s gonna go help ‘im. You got this Ace?” Jack asked eyeing the viles and the tiny pile of syringes dubiously. Katherine waved him off as she took a notepad out of her pocket.

 

“Ready baby?” Nurse Bessie asked and went on after receiving a quick nod. “Now he needs four drops from the green bottle three times a day, with food but not to be taken with the drops from the red bottle. The red bottle is five drops twice a day on an empty stomach…” She prattled on about which to mix with what and how he would most likely refuse to take this medication and that. Katherine took diligent notes the entire time, on timing, dosages, and how to administer the shots that were only prescribed as needed to bring him out of panics and any extreme pain. She finished with “Any questions dear?”

 

“I think I have it all.” Katherine glanced over the notepad flipping through the pages before handing it over to the nurse who carefully read over the notes, pleased with what she saw she pulled Katherine in for a tight hug.

 

A few moments later Racer came out of his room in a brand new outfit complete with new winter boots. He rushed forward and jumped on Nurse Bessie like a koala bear she staggered back into the desk holding onto him tightly. She squeezed him back and set him on the ground inspecting his new clothes. “You clean up nice baby. Do you like them?” She asked tucking a curl behind his ear.

 

“I love them. Thank you Miss. Bessie.” He squeezed her again “For everything.”

 

She bent his head down, kissed the top of his forehead and held him tight to her side as she pointed at Jack and Katherine in warning. “Now if anything goes wrong I want you to call me.” She passed them a piece of paper with her home and work number on it “Day or night I won’t mind a bit, no selling for at least a few days,” Race whined at her side catching these words, she covered the side of her mouth so he couldn’t see and whispered “Half days if he fights you on it. Now if he spikes a fever, or his cough comes back for more than a day you bring him right on back to me.” She looked at him warmly and tacked on “That goes for any of you boys, anyone of them get sick you let me know.” 

 

Race made his rounds saying farewell to the rest of the staff and a few patients before returning for one last hug from Nurse Bessie. Jack thanked the staff as Katherine settled the bills. When the three were finished with the paperwork and good to go they loaded into the elevator one last time. Nurse Bessie waved as the door shut and signed to Racer “Be good.”

 

Katherine called for a taxi as Jack and Race took turns making faces in the reflections of the christmas bobbles that hung on the tree in the lobby. As soon as the car pulled up Race ran out the front door. Squeezing his eyes shut to fully feel his city Race stuck out his tongue to catch the falling snowflakes around him. Jack walked past him and loaded up his belongings into the trunk.

 

“Race!” Jack yelled waving to try to get his attention to let him know it was time to go. Racetrack twirled through the snowflakes with the joy of a child oblivious to everything around him. Jack held the door for Katherine to get in as he uselessly called after him again. He turned to the impatient driver and held up a finger to say wait a minute. Jack stooped down and scooped up a few snowballs. The first two soared past the dancing boy, the third however smacked him square in the side of the head exploding in a puff of white. Jack’s eyes went wide with concern.

 

Racer reached up proding the pile of snow that stuck in his curls and quickly dropped to the ground packing and firing off snowballs as quickly as possible.

 

Jack ducked behind the car’s door using it as a shield only popping up to launch more at his opponent. The fight only ended when one of Race’s snowballs went rogue and hit the cab driver so hard his hat fell off. Race covered his mouth with his hands and ran into the cabin of the car with a quick apology as Jack pulled a dime out of his pocket, offered it to the driver as a tip and climbed in.

 

Ten minutes into the ride and Racer was buzzing with excitement. He fidgeted back and forth in his seat and every few seconds he’d press his nose to the frosted window to see the city fly past him.

 

“You happy to be going home?” Katherine asked patting his back as she noticed the wide smile that had to be hurting his cheeks.

 

“Am I ever.” Race shouted unable to take notice of the volume he babbled on about how thrilled he was to see everyone, to celebrate Christmas, sleep in his own bed, and of course to get out and sell again. Half way through his monologue he began gesturing wildly with his hands while he spoke. Jack watched the gestures intently some of them were the same as he saw Davey practicing and others where just wild hands flying. Race bounced up and down as he spoke about everything and nothing at the same time.

 

Traffic came to a standstill about three blocks away from the lodging house. They sat for what seemed like forever to Racer, he looked out the window as the wheels turned in his head, glancing quickly over at Jack and Katherine who had him stuck in the middle seat he made a snap judgement. In one swift motion Race threw open the door vaulted over Katherine’s lap, jumped out of the car and went sprinting down the street. Jack swore once and jumped out after him. He shrieked with laughter as he ran down the crowded streets, the crunch of the snow under his new boots egging him on as he went. Two blocks from the house his lungs began to protest the cold air and the exertion. Refusing to wait to catch his breath he pressed on. One block away his legs became wobbly as the adrenaline from his great escape faded. Race continued jogging as his knees knocked together and chest pulled tight. Jack caught up with him a hundred meters from their front door. Jack looped Racer’s arm over his shoulder holding him upright and out of the snow. He leaned most of his weight on Jack but refused to stop and continued taking feeble steps forward.When they reached the stoop of number nine Duane Street, his legs gave out completely. Jack dragged him up the final steps and they both leaned against the wreath dressed front door and slid down it to sit on the ground. Jack patted him on the chest to make him look over “How you feeling pal?” He asked deeply concerned as he heard Race’s labored gasping breaths.

 

Race let his head fall back against the door, looking up at the lodging house, smiled and replied between gasps, without the slightest hint of sarcasm. “Never better Jackie, never better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to update guys! Please tell me what you think. I literally thrive on external praise and validation. Also let me know if you hate it just pretty please be nice. 
> 
> https://newspaperarchive.com/world-dec-22-1899-p-1/
> 
> Here’s a microfiche of the newspaper Jack and Kathrine are selling in this chapter! The story is real a woman shot someone who broke in through the heart. This was unheard of during this time because most thought women were too weak to handle weapons.


	6. Chapter Six

The cab bounced up the cobblestone streets mere minutes after the boys had made it to the front door. The car barely slowed before Katherine hopped out, she tossed a wrinkled dollar bill at the driver, grabbed Racer’s small box of belongings and dashed up the stairs to her boys. She crouched in front of Race who was hunched over his head tucked between his knees as he madly fought for breath. She gently ran her fingers through his snow dampened hair while Jack firmly patted him between the shoulders. “Shush shush baby you’re alright.” She soothed placing a kiss on the top of his head. Jack looked up at her his anxious eyes meeting hers wordlessly begging her to fix it. She shrugged and continued attempting to soothe the heaving boy with useless words that Jack clung onto like a liferaft. After what seemed like hours Race’s choking subsided as he finally caught his breath enough he lifted his head from between his knees his nose nearly brushing Katherine’s he flashed a cocky grin.   
  
“You alright?” Katherine cupped his cheek in her hand and ran the other through his hair smoothing it back.    
  
Racer nodded still unable to speak. He leaned forward closing the few centimeter gap and rubbed his nose against hers in a quick Eskimo kiss, earning him a warning slap on the back of the head from Jack.    
  
“I thought you said be easy on him?” Finch called strolling down the sidewalk.    
  
“I told you lot to be easy with him. I can still soak him.” Jack yelled back as he stood up.    
  
Finch took the stairs two at a time he reached a hand down to Race pulling him up onto his feet. Race stumbled a step forward Jack caught him by the shirt as Finch tried to cover his unsteady steps by pulling him into a hug. Finch helped Race into the house and settled him onto the couch in the parlour. Jack and Katherine went upstairs to put Race’s things away. Racer sat on the couch cross legged and let his head fall back into the warn leather as Finch flopped down next to him swinging his legs across Race’s lap.    
  
“So did ya miss us.” Finch prompted raising his eyebrows.   
  
“Not one bit, your mom is still lookin’ for you though.” Finch nodded she was the reason he was one of the only boys who didn’t visit Racer during his stay.   
  
“How is she?” Finch asked taking off his hat and wringing it in his hands.     
  
“She’s good, she really likes JoJo. She’s still with your dad though.” Race said not wanting to give too much information and upset the boy.    
  
Finch nodded and smiled wiggling his feet in Racer’s lap“it’s pretty hard to not like JoJo.”   
  
What about you anything exciting happen while I was gone?” Race pushed Finch’s legs off of him only for them to be replaced a moment later.    
  
Finch scooted closer to him and began to write, telling him all about the lousy headlines, the lice outbreak in Queens, the pranks he had missed including them trapping Kloppman in the bathroom stall for over an hour while they built a snowman in the living room when Jack and Crutchie were out. Racer grinned watching his lips form the words. Finch was different than the rest of the boys. His mind wandered, he forgot to speak slowly and halfway through the stories he began just fiddling with the pencil. Race let his mind wander along with his friend, both of them blissfully in their own worlds just appreciating the others company. Finch jabbed him in the arm after he finished whatever tangent he had gone on  “So anything new goin’ on in Racer’s World?”   
  
Racer shook his head “Nah hospitals are pretty boring.” JoJo made it home, ruffled Race’s hair in hello and took up a seat next to Finch after pecking him on the cheek. The three chatted about work and other trivial things losing Race half way through the conversation as other boys began to filter in. All of them took their turns embracing Race asking, how he was, and just welcoming him back home. In no time at all the parlour was packed with 30 kids chattering on, pencils and paper be damned. Racer picked up the paper and handed it to Albert in a silent plea to fill him in. Albert cluelessly smiled at him took the paper and set it down on the coffee table before returning to the conversation. Race’s head spun he moved to sit on the arm of the couch trying to keep up with anything that was going on when suddenly something came crashing into his side toppling him to the ground. The room went quiet as a dozen of the boys jumped up to help. Race lifted his head from the floor and looked up at Les laying on his chest squeezing him as tightly as possible.    
  
“Ooof” he grinned at the boy snuggling into his chest ”Hey shortstop.” Davey plucked Les off of him by his suspenders and dragged the boy into the other room to scold him before he could even respond. Finch and JoJo tried helping Racer back to his feet he brushed them off and climbed back to his perch.    
  
A few minutes later Les and David reentered the room. Les tapped Race on the shoulder and frowned “I’m sorry” he signed his fist making a clockwise circle in the center of his chest. A smile split Racer’s face in two.    
  
“It’s alright buddy, I missed you.” Race pulled him in for hug and felt Les rapidly babble into his chest. “What ya got there Davey?” He asked over the top of of the boys head.    
  
David held a giant copper pot under his right arm he switched it to his left before responding “My mom made us all soup.” He clumsily fingerspelled s-o-u-p. Even though Race was able to lipread all the words he smiled at the extra gesture. “Wanna help me get it ready?”   
  
Race glanced back into the parlour, everyone was sitting around laughing at a joke he had missed. Shrugging he followed Davey into the kitchen with Les still chattering away at his side. Race set up the stove getting the kindling started before realizing that no one had replenished the wood pile today.    
  
“Where do you keep the wood?” Davey asked.    
  
“Basement. I’ll get some.”   
  
“No no you sit.” Davey offered “Les and I-“   
  
“Just let me get the damn firewood.” He snapped unsure of where the annoyance came from.    
  
He returned moments later arms full of logs and only slightly out of breath. He tossed the logs into the rack and began setting up the inside of the stove. Dave crouched next to him to help but he was promptly shoved away. In a moment the fire blazed, grinning Race dug in his pocket pulled out half a cigar and lit in the flames. Race stood, got himself a glass of water and popped up on the counter, puffing happily away at his cigar as Davey stirred the pot. Les waved at him getting his attention, he shot a quick glance at Davey making sure his back was turned and signed “this mean same?” And flicked up both his middle fingers with such conviction Race choked his water laughing. He threw his hands over the boys fingers folding them back down before his brother turned around. Dave heard the sputtering and rushed asking him if he was alright and patting him on the back.    
  
Race pushed him away instantly “I’se fine kid. You’se all better quit touchin’ me” He snapped. David raised a hand again involuntarily but withdrew it and returned to his soup pot cheeks slightly pink. Race turned back to Les and “Why do you know how to sign?”   
  
“Davey made me learn with him. Says you gives him anxietys.”   
  
“Now that ain’t true!” David waved his wooden spoon at his brother“he wanted to learn on his own.”   
  
“So I don’ ‘gives you anxietys’?” Race joked wiggling his eyebrows at him.    
  
“You don’t. Your shenanigans do.” Davey said turning back to the pot.    
  
Les waved at Racer to repeat his question about his obscene gesture. He nodded his head and his hand in response. Les grinned flicked off his brothers back as he and Race dissolved into a fit of laughter. Les climbed on the counter next to Race, each of them going back and forth teaching new signs the other hadn’t learned yet, fingerspelling when gestures failed, and only speaking as a last resort. Les relished in the quiet game, while Race enjoyed not having to try so damn hard just to understand.    
  
Dinner was ready in no time at all. Everyone chattered happily away as they ate Mrs. Jacobs’ soup. Albert and Elmer sat on Racer’s right and left, he left a piece of paper for each of them. Albert started a game of tic tac toe on his sheet while Elmer tried to scribble down what everyone said. In no time at all Elmer’s page was full of half finished thoughts that left Race more confused than before. Race pushed a chunk of potato around his bowl when the entire table erupted into laughter. He nudged Albert and asked “What did I miss?”   
  
Albert picked up the pencil, put it down and just said “I’ll tell you later.”   
  
Half way through the meal Jack stood and called everyone to attention. “Gents, before we get down and dirty with the business runnin’s of this weekend I want to take a minute and welcome home everyone’s favorite pain in the ass, Racer, its good to have you back pal. I hope you didn’ enjoy your little vacation too much because we ain’t losin’ you for that long ever again. We missed you, an I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say if you need a damn thing don’ hesitate to let any of us know.” Race’s lips turned up in a grateful smile and he nodded his acknowledgment as people clapped him on the back in welcome. Jack dove back into his announcements on the Christmas party tomorrow night, plans for the weekend and their two day Christmas break from selling. Race watched carefully picking up a good chunk of the words.   
  
While Jack prattled on Katherine rose from his side and circled the table squatting next to Race she picked up Albert’s pencil and wrote “want to help me set up for the party tomorrow?” Race furrowed his eyebrows, her elegant cursive had far too many loops and curves, to him it was indecipherable from a toddlers drawings.    
  
“You write like royalty.” He whispered “like the king of New York. What’s it supposed to say?” She smiled and printed the question again. He grinned up at her, nodded and whispered “after sellin’ I can.” She ruffled his hair and gave him a kiss on the side of the head before heading out to catch her cab home.    
  
When he looked up from the paper the entire table had burst into an argument, he glanced around everyone seemed to be still playful but all yelling nonetheless. Race waved at David who was the only one not in on the fight. Les was sitting at his side adding to the screaming match.    
  
“You alright?” Dave signed across the table to him.    
  
Race racked his brain for the sign of the word he wanted, after a moment he conceded to fingerspelling “L-o-s-t” in response.    
  
David nodded and signed back “Children care.” Little duty was always hotly contested, whoever got saddled in the littles bunkroom had to handle the lot of them. This included everything from overseeing teeth brushing to handling nightmares and late night potty runs. Who ever drew the short straw of the evening was almost guaranteed a poor night's rest.     
  
By the looks of it the fight was coming to an end and it was down to Buttons and Finch. They settled it with a game of Rock Paper Scissors, Buttons threw rock which Finch made a show of leaping across the table to cover it with his paper and taking a victory lap as the entire table erupted into applause and laughter. Jack spoke again bringing the entire table to an uncomfortable silence. The joy of the previous moment lost in an instant and replaced by an unknown elephant in the room.    
  
Crutchie stood up yelling and waved his crutch at Jack visibly upset. Race looked around confused by the scene, any eyes that were on him quickly averted themselves as he tried to make eye contact. Les was the only one who would look at Race dead on. Racer signed “what happened?” Les stood up to cross the table towards Race when David grabbed him by his suspenders and pulled him back into his chair. “Why fight?” Race signed again keeping the sentence short so Les could read it.    
  
“R-a-c-e-r  D-u-t-y” Les spelled before David to grab his hand and shove it under the table.    
  
Race’s eyes went wide, he glared at Jack who just realized his mistake, “Race-“ Jack began but Race squeezed his eyes shut, stood up and dismissed himself to the bunk room leaving the room full of tension behind him. Crutchie followed his lead out of the dining room and up the stairs.    
  
Racer threw the bunk room door open as tears stung the corners of his eyes and stomped off to his bed. He rushed around the room getting ready for bed as quickly as possible, stuffing his clothes in his locker and exchanging them for pajamas. As he climbed into his bed he found the paper bag filled with all his medications from the hospital attached to them was Katherine’s written instructions in the swirly script he couldn’t breakdown earlier, the wetness in his eyes fogging the letters even more. He stuffed the bottles back into the bag and tucked it underneath his pillow, deciding it would be tomorrow’s problem. Crutchie hobbled in moments later. Race flopped down on his side, and squeezed his eyes shut feigning sleep, his poorly stifled sniffles blowing his cover. Crutchie pulled himself up to sit on the edge of Race’s top bunk.    
  
Feeling the thin mattress sink Race pulled his knees to his chest and mumbled “Go away Kelly.” Crutchie tapped Race’s leg twice and got him to look up. Race sat up and wiped the tears from his eyes putting on a brave face “so now you on Racer Duty?” He asked through a sniffle.   
  
“No just friend duty. You alright?” Crutchie asked settling into the foot of the bed.    
  
“‘M fine.” Race said wiping at his nose, hoping that would be the end of discussion. Crutchie pulled his foot up onto the bed by his pant leg and began struggling to untie his shoe. Race undid the laces and tossed the shoe clear across the room to Crutchie usual bunk before motioning for the other foot. “How’s the leg?”    
  
“Eh he’s been better. He hates the cold ya know. It’s pretty gross today, wanna see?” Race nodded once a little confused, Crutchie took his hand and placed it on the back of his atrophied calf. The muscles twitched and writhed in his hand spasmodically. Crutchie reached up and began massaging his thigh as Race gently rubbed his calf through the spasms. “Some days are worse than others you know? The pain never really goes away but it has bad days and good days and some days it's hardly noticeable. I always find the first day of winter, the first really cold day is always the worst. Not sure why though maybe ‘cause ‘m just getting used to it again. But it does get easier. That’s what I always tell myself on bad days it always gets easier.”    
  
Race nodded unsure of what to say the bunk room door opened and Jack stepped in. Race threw the covers over his head and laid back down as Crutchie hopped down from the bed.    
  
“Get out of here.” Crutchie advanced on Jack.    
  
“I was just comin’ to apologize. Geez Crutch calm down.” Jack held his hands up in front of him as Crutchie backed him out of the room into the hall closing the door behind him.    
  
“You don’ get it do you? You can’t just talk about him like he’s not there especially if you’s signin’ someone up to be his nanny. Did you even ask him if he wanted help?” Crutchie shook with rage.    
  
“I- I didn’t think-“ Jack started.    
  
“You’se right you didn’t think. You never think.” He snapped “You have to talk to the damn kid not just do what you think is best.”   
  
“It’s hard with the writin’ and the hand flappin’ I just figured if he wasn’ payin’ attention so no harm done?”    
  
“Oh no harm done? I’m sorry? Is his disability too much of an inconvenience for you now?”   
  
“No Crutch s’not it!” Jack back tracked but Crutchie was already on a tear.    
  
“So you gotta slow down a bit, maybe write here or there is it really that hard for you Kelly? Imagine how hard it is for him. I’se been dealin’ with this for 10 years an’ it’s still tough, he ain’t even had this for 10 weeks and you expected what?”   
  
“I was just tryin’ to help.” Jack said to the floor.    
  
“You can help by crashin’ somewhere else tonight. Apologize in the mornin’ and then you treat him like you treat every other damn kid in this house. He ain’t no different.” A small congregation of boys hovered on the steps listening to the argument unfold Crutchie shooed them off to get ready for bed. By the time Crutchie returned to bunk room Race had fallen fast asleep with the thin covers wrapped tightly around him. Crutchie limped off towards his bed knowing tomorrow would test both of their limits and patience.    
  
Crutchie woke up before the morning bell had the chance to ring and shuffled over to lockers on Race’s side of the room. He managed to pull on one of his moth eaten jumpers by the time the bell finally rang. He abandoned his socks and headed for Race’s bunk, a piece of paper in hand. Crutchie reached out and shook the frame of the beds cause Elmer to topple out of the bottom one in a sleepy haze but Race stayed asleep. He walked up towards his head and tapped Racer on the shoulder. He opened his eyes and grumbled unintelligibly. “Nope you’se workin’ today I ain’t pickin’ up your slack no more.” Crutchie told him tickling at his sides. Race finally turned and glared at the boy. Crutchie held up his piece of paper that read in big bold letters “ **Morning Bell Rung. Wake Up Your Troops.** ” Race grinned as he sat upright glancing around the bunk room, only a few of the early birds were milling about but the rest were still asleep.   
  
He crawled down to the foot of his rickety bed and crouched on the corner of it like an owl. He looked over at Crutchie who nodded his head encouragingly at the behavior he knew was coming. Racer sprung off the top bunk landing on the ground with a loud crash that shook the floor beneath him. He snickered at the feeling knowing exactly how loud that was. Most of the boys were startled awake by this only a few actually began making forward motion on waking up. Race tore through his bunk room pulling blankets off the sleeping boys screaming “Now is the time to seize the day, wake up now or there’ll be hell to pay.”    
  
Davey rubbed his eyes grumbling “so you do listen when I talk.”   
  
Race worked his way through the bunk rooms in a matter of minutes leaving a trail of grumpy boys behind him.    
  
He stopped outside the little’s room always being more gentle with them. He knocked twice on the door before letting himself in. “Good morning men.” He called out before flicking on the light “Two more sleeps until Christmas.” He worked his way through the bunks ruffling the heads of sleepy children. He stopped at Jesse’s bed all that could be seen of the boy was his bright red hair poking out from under the covers. Race pulled the covers back with a quick “peak-a-boo” the little boy launched himself at Race nuzzling into his chest. Race squeezed him tight against himself having missed his wee protege when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned and saw Jack standing behind him.    
  
Jack gave a small wave, pointed to the hallway and said “can we talk?”    
  
Race detached the boy from him with a quick order to get ready for the day and followed Jack out the door.    
  
“I’m sorry about last night.” Jack started, the younger boy leaned against the wood paneled wall, arms crossed. He motioned for Jack to continue. “It wasn’ fair and if you want to sell alone you can.”   
  
“Oh so you givin’ me permission now?” Race snipped back only mildly annoyed.    
  
“No, man, Jesus why’s this so hard.” Jack scratched his head in thought. “I’m just sayin’ ’m sorry an’ you can sell however you want with whoever you want.”   
  
“I don’t need a sitter.”   
  
“I know, just if you need anything…” Jack trailed off.    
  
“I know where ya all sell I’ll find someone.”   
  
“An your nurse she said only half a day.” Race scrunched his nose in disgust “now that ain’t on me that’s doctors orders, an’ you take your drugs and stuff with you. An actually take em.” Jack tacked on.    
  
Race rolled his eyes and muttered “yes mom.”   
  
“Alright kid I’m trustin’ you.” Jack said playfully punching his shoulder.    
  
“That’s stupid of you.” Race scoffed with a smile uncrossing his arms and raising his eyebrows.    
  
Jack waggled his finger in his face “Don’t make me regret it.”   
  
“Oh don’t worry Jackie boy you will.”   
  
Jack swung his arm over Race’s shoulders and began walking back to the bunk room. “I already do. Come on let’s get ready and get you sellin’ some papes.”   
  
The walk to the distribution desk was uneventful, everyone was in good spirits as snowballs flew through the pack of boys. A cheer rang out as the headline went up “ _ Christmas Jollity Ends in Fatal Fire. _ ” As they lined up to get their papers Crutchie stayed by Race’s side. David sent Les to go play with the other kids as he took up his silent post in front of Racer. Albert stood in front of Crutchie the three of them making a protective blanket around the boy. Dave bought his papers first, then Albert who hovered when it was Race’s turn.    
  
Race didn’t understand why the simple act of buying his papers made his hands shake but when he laid down his coins and asked for fifty papers his voice caught in his throat.    
  
“Where you been?” Morris sneered holding the papers just beyond his reach. Albert glanced at Dave to check if they were going to intervene. Dave shook his head so slightly it was almost imperceptible.    
  
Race stood silently his hand outstretched waiting like a statue.    
  
“Ain’t you gonna answer him?” Oscar spoke up. Race had forgotten he’d been asked a question.    
  
“I’ve been busy.” He tried his voice cracking.    
  
“Busy with what?” Morris prodded.    
  
Race steeled himself “I’se been busy satisfyin’ your mother, now you don’t have to. Consider it a Christmas gift.” Morris’ face went red he went to hop over the desk but Albert Davey and Crutchie closed rank behind Racer menacingly. He threw the stack of papers at the boy who quickly stuffed them in his bag. Race turned and added “give this to your mama for me” and blew a kiss over his shoulder at the boys.    
  
By the time everyone had gotten their papers Jack was doing a final headcount before dismissing everyone. He stopped at Racer pulling his scarf tighter around him. “You got all your stuff?” He double checked.    
  
“Good to go Jackie.” Race smiled ready to get back to business as usual.    
  
“Okay,” Jack fiddled with Race’s scarf again and pulled his coat tight fastening the top button “just don’t... don’t-“ He trailed off.    
  
“Don’t do anything stupid?” Race offered swatting Jack’s hands away.    
  
“I was gonna say that but it’s too much to ask. Don’t die okay.”   
  
“No promises.” Race laughed as Jack pulled his knit cap over his eyes and smacked him on the shoulder. Jack moved through the crowds making sure all the littles were as bundled as they could possibly be. Race headed for the gate with Elmer alongside him.    
  
“So where are you sellin’ today?” Elmer asked flipping through his stacks of papes.    
  
“Haven’ decided yet, ‘m probably stay around here just in case. What about you?”   
  
“I was gonna head uptown to see my folks ‘fore the holidays. How’s about you come with me? My ma’s making golabki z grzybami, there’s always extra.”   
  
Race watched the Polish words tumble from his mouth with ease. Having no idea what Elmer was referring to he scrunched his nose at the name. Everyone knew Mrs. Kasprzak was an excellent cook they just never knew what was being served by the name alone.    
  
“Thanks but I feel safer stayin’ down here,” he said eyeing the Brooklyn Bridge in the distance  even if it was forbidden territory just the familiar sight of it put him at ease “tell your mum I say merry Christmas and I wouldn’t say no if you happen to bring me back some gobble de gook.”    
  
“Will do, be careful today.” Elmer said before heading in the opposite direction. Thirty feet away he called over his shoulder ”I’ll see ya tonight.”    
  
With that Race was left alone for the first time in weeks, with the entirety of Manhattan spread out before him, he had never felt so small. He told himself multiple times that selling would be no different, he still had his voice, his wits and his cheeky smile he just didn’t have his ears this go around. He paced the streets calling out the headline. His first customer snuck up on him from behind he assumed she had said something before tapping his shoulder but he couldn’t be sure. The unwelcomed touch caused him to jump a foot away from the woman. He recovered with a smile and sold her a pape. People were kinder this time of year she let him keep the change for the nickel she had paid for it.    
  
Selling didn’t sit right with him today. If an old woman with a cane could go unnoticed by him how easy would it be for the Delancey’s to sneak up on him. He took a deep breath trying to calm himself, he started walking, a moving target is harder to hit. Letting his feet carry him he constantly glanced over his shoulder checking for any unfriendly faces. He didn’t know where he was going. His body moved mechanically on muscle memory alone. He looked over his shoulder again when all of a sudden he smacked right into a man who was coming out of a bakery.    
  
The force of the impact caused Race and the man to stumble. Race caught himself on his hands and knees before hitting the icy sidewalk, the man however dropped his boxes full of cookies and cakes and other holiday sweets into the slush covered street, the dozens of goodies flying every which way. The man began yelling at the boy spit flew out of his mouth as his face went purple with rage. He gestured towards the ruined food as Race clambered backwards into the door of the bakery backing away and looking for an exit. Race slowly stood up and ducked left to make a break for it, the man caught him by his paper bag. In a flash the man cracked him across the face the large stone on his gold ring splitting the boys cheek. He let out an involuntary cry of pain and took off like a shot going on muscle memory alone.    
  
The city flew past him as blood dripped down his cheek. His lungs screamed for him to stop a stitch formed in his side as his vision narrowed. He couldn’t slow down he knew the man wasn’t following him but he ran from something he couldn’t quite pinpoint. He only slowed when he reached the end of the Brooklyn Bridge. His lungs burned and every muscle felt limp and weak but a feeling of calm swept over him. He squatted on the ground leaning back into a snowbank catching his breath. He let his guard down for just a moment, tucking his head between his knees focusing on breathing in and out as black dots crawled into his vision.  He shut his eyes shut for only a second in an attempt to calm himself.   
  
The next thing he was aware of was the feeling of worn fabric underneath his cheek. He nuzzled into the soft wool inhaling the familiar scent of murky dock water, newspaper ink, and sweat. They were speaking the soft rumble of words vibrated under him. He tried to open his eyes but they wouldn’t cooperate so he just laid reveling in the feeling of safety. They pressed a cool cloth to the boys bloodied cheek he winced and tried to turn away. The slight movement seemed to spark something in the caregiver. The rumble of words became more intense as they began rolling their knuckles up and down Race’s breastbone.    
  
Race whined under the painful pressure willing his eyes to open. “Hey Spottie.” He breathed his voice barely more than a whisper. Before shutting his eyes down again. Spot gently slapped his cheek a few times rousing him again.    
  
“Stay awake.” It was an order. Race tried to oblige and sit up but he was confined by a mass of blankets on top of him. He glanced around the small private bedroom realizing he was safe in Spot’s room.    
  
“What happened?” He asked blinking up at the boy.   
  
“You passed out in the snow. Sniper found you and brought you here. What were you thinkin’ you ain’t been out what, a week and you end up blue next to the bridge.”    
  
Race looked at the clock on the nightstand and corrected him “Well technically I’se been out 22 hours.”   
  
Spot scoffed and rolled his eyes visibly annoyed “Are you tryin’ to get yourself killed?” Race winced and shrunk away from the angry boy, he softened and continued mopping the dried blood off the boys cheek. He put the cloth down and cupped the boys face “What were you thinking?”     
  
“I don’t know.” Race hesitated, his cheeks flushed red as he admitted “I got scared and wound up here.”   
  
Any trace of left over anger melted away as Spot ran his thumb over Racer’s cheek bone. “Scared of what Tony?” Race closed his eyes and shook his head avoiding the question. “Okay, okay,” Spot soothed threading his fingers through the blonds curls.    
  
“I’m an idiot.” Race mumbled his voice so quiet Spot wasn’t sure if he actually heard him at first “I thought it would go back to normal when I got home.”   
  
Spot took a moment to make sure he had his eyes “What do you mean normal? Is they not treatin’ you right? You need me to knock some heads in?” Spot asked suddenly very defensive.    
  
Race scoffed, pushing himself up on his elbows out of Spots lap so he could turn and face him better immediately regretting the lack of contact. He tucked one leg up letting the other dangle off the pallet bed while he leaned on the thin wooden walls. “Nah everyone’s good for the most part. They go too fast and forget to write and I miss most of what's happenin’ but that happened when they visited too. I just thought if I could get out of the hospital I’d be better. That they said this was permanent but maybe it was just permanent in there but it’s not it’s everywhere and it ain’t fair. It’s dumb.”    
  
He fiddled with the fringe of one of the blankets and looked to Spot who was at a loss for words. “It ain’t fair.” Race mumbled “It ain’t fair I can’t hear a God damned thing and it ain’t fair.” His heart began racing as his temper rose. “It ain’t fair Spotty I ain’t a bad guy I don’t deserve this! A little old ass lady snuck up on me today and it scared the hell outta me. I could barely get my papes cause I was so nervous the Delancey’s would soak me if they found out I’m a- a whatever I am now. An’ I can barely walk straight on the streets because what if some ass comes up behind me I can’t hear it any of it the carriages and train cars and it ain’t gonna get better!” Racer screamed tugging at his ears praying they’d react to something “Oh man an’ are you ready for this bullshit Crutchie says it’ll get easier but if these useless fuckers are here to stay I don’ see how that’s possible.” Race stood up off the mattress to pace the floor but immediately tripped on his bag still full of papers, he picked up his bag and whipped it at the wall roaring in anger. Spot just sat and watched him as he furiously tore his room to shreds. After a few minutes Race collapsed in the wreckage he curled into himself as his body was wracked with sobs. Spot sat beside him and put a hand on his back he quickly turned and burrowed into his broad chest as hot tears rolled down his cheeks “it ain’t fair” Race sobbed one more time as Spot gently rocked him back and forth humming nonsensical words of comfort to him.    
  
Sobs wracked his body while Spot swayed with him. “I-I’m sorry.“    
  
Spot cut him off by tapping him on the chin his blue eyes swollen and red from the tears looked up at him. “Collect yourself an’ we’ll talk I got you.” Race nodded his understanding and nuzzled back into the crook of Spot’s neck. Spot rested his chin against the top of the blonds head, he continued muttering nonsense and absentmindedly placed a single kiss on the top of Race’s head. They both blushed realizing what he had done but neither spoke and neither moved.    
  
Race’s breathing evened out as the choking sobs subsided he peaked up, glancing around the room at the clothes and other things thrown everywhere and muttered “I’m sorry.”    
  
Spot chuckled still holding the boy. “Don’t be I did worse than this the other day just lookin’ for my hat.” Race smiled as Spot continued “An’ you’re right it ain’t fair but neither is life but this is life now an’ it’s gonna be hard but we’ll figure it out. If anyone in the world can make the best of this it’s you. But for now we go through the motions, we get you all better, we take the medicine, we learn to sign, we teach the others, then we figure out how to milk this and make millions.”   
  
Race felt his cheeks flush. “We?”    
  
“Yes ‘we’ dummy. I didn’t spend all that time with you just to bail now. Especially when there’s money to be made.” Spot joked.    
  
“But you left, and you kicked me outta Brooklyn.” Race said biting his thumbnail.    
  
“That was... I didn’t mean... there was a lot.. I’m sorry. That wasn’ fair, that wasn’ you, I snapped an’ I’m so sorry. I was gonna come back and explain but I figured after it, you wouldn’ want to see- I’m so sorry.” The tips on Spot’s ears flushed pink, he held onto Race hoping he wouldn’t slip away and leave him.    
  
Race settled back into his chest with an “‘S okay Spottie.” Earning a grateful chuckle from him.    
  
They sat contented for a while in a comfortable silence. Spot leaned his head back on the wall and began dozing off when a series of deep coughs from Racer roused him. He rocked him until the fit subsided, looking at the clock he said “It’s past noon you gotta take your stuff.” Spot removed the boy from his lap ignoring the whines of protest. Spot began digging in Race’s paper bag in search of the glass bottles of medicines.  He shook them and frowned realizing they were all still filled to the brim. “You have been taking this right?”    
  
Racer averted his eyes and scrunched them shut when the question was repeated. “I can’t read how to do it so I jus didn’t.” He finally relented after Spot began poking his sides to get him to listen.    
  
Spot took his hand and dragged him out of the room to the downstairs kitchen they laid the bottles out on the counter and found a piece of paper to begin picking through Katherine’s illegible script. Within minutes they had unravelled it enough to figure out the noon dosages. Spot soon realized decoding the Rosetta Stone of medical instructions was child’s play compared to actually convincing the boy to take the stuff. Twenty minutes after the argument began, Itey walked into the scuffle, Spot had Race in a headlock as he pinched his nose and covered his mouth yelling at him to “man up and swallow it.” Itey promptly left as Spot called over Race’s head to him “it’s not what it looks like!” Race eventually gave in and swallowed the medicine leaving them both glaring at each other through brief bursts of laughter.   
  
“See.” Spot grinned slightly out of the breath “that wasn’t that bad.”   
  
“You take it next time.” Race snipped back scraping his tongue on his teeth trying to get rid of the taste “Miss Bessie always gave me a sugar cube after.”    
  
“We ain’t fancy like that.” Spot smiled as he went to get a water glass out of the cabinet. Not realizing Race was behind him he let the cupboard door swing open as the corner of it hit Race square in the forehead. Spot covered his mouth with his hands when he heard the clunk. “I’m so sorry!” He exclaimed.    
  
Race put up a hand to silence him, in mock anguish he cried through crocodile tears “First you poison me, then you beat me with doorsthis is abuse Spottie an’ I’m gonna tell my mom!”    
  
“Shh shh shh” Spot took his head in his hands looking at the small red bump already forming “Let me see you big baby.” He tilted Race’s head forward and pressed a kiss to the bump like he did with his littles and all their small injuries. He pulled away an inch or so when he realized what he had done. “I’m sorry” Spot whispered still cupping the boys face in his hands.    
  
Race gazed up at him wide eyed for only a second before closing the gap between them and pressing their lips together. Their lips parted slightly as their eyes closed down drinking in each other, the bitter taste of the medication still fresh on Race’s lips. Their noses bumped together awkwardly causing Race to let out an involuntary giggle into Spot’s mouth. A shy smile split Spot’s face as they pulled apart only a centimeter. Race reached forward for one final peck before grinning stupidly at him as well.    
  
“Jesus Christ at least go upstairs.” A voice came from the doorway. Itey leaned against the door frame with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. He held out their bags still half full of papers Spot flushed bright red “So you want me to return these for you boss or you gonna keep sellin’?”    
  
Race burst into laughter as Spot waved Itey out to return the papers to the distribution center before burying his beet red face into Race’s shoulder. 


	7. Chapter Seven

“Where is he?” Jack asked for the millionth time, wringing his hat in his hands as he paced the floor.  
  
“I’m sure he’s just fine.” Katherine soothed glancing up at the clock that read half past one “Come frost these for me by the time you’re done I’m sure he’ll be home.” She put a plate of sugar cookies on the table with a few bowls of colored icings for him to decorate with.  
  
“But...” Jack started before he was promptly cut off.  
  
“No buts. Race is a big boy and he’s just fine you either frost here or fret somewhere else.” She said putting her foot down. Jack pulled out a stool and began messily frosting the cookies. Every few seconds he’d glance up at the door. His heart leapt as he heard the doorknob turn, much to his dismay, Albert was the next one home. After a curt hello from Jack and warm embraces from Miss Medda and Katherine Albert was promptly put to work stringing popcorn strands to decorate the tree that Miss Medda had found for them.  
  
At quarter past two the lodging house front door burst open with Race calling out “Honey, I’m home!” Jack leapt from his seat sending a few cookies falling to the floor, sprinting across the house to greet Race and Spot. Race had a small goose egg in the center of his forehead and a new cut on his cheek, but other than that he looked as good as anyone could have hoped. Jack took his chin in his hand probing at the cut with a “What happened to you?”  
  
Race wiggled out of his hold and smacked Jack off of him with a quick “I fell.” He lied glancing down at Spot in a silent plea to not betray him.  
  
“Uh huh.” Jack said not convinced “How’d sellin’ go?”  
  
“You tell me.” Race said flatly holding up his empty paper bag. Itey had returned his papers for him after only selling one but Jack didn’t need to know that.  
  
“Good! Did you sell all day?” Jack asked glancing back up at the clock.  
  
“Nah, I was back at the Brooklyn house at, what do you think Spot, eleven, noon maybe?”  
  
“You were back before me.” Spot replied, it wasn’t technically a lie so he had to go with it. They had both just failed to mention the reason he wound up at the lodgings so early was because Sniper had found him unconscious in the snow.  
  
Jack eyed the both of them warily, “You’se sure you’re okay?”  
  
“Geez Kelly what’s with the interrogation, I said today was good it was good. Can’t we just enjoy the party?” Race peeked around Jack’s shoulder seeing Katherine stirring something in the kitchen he bounded off to investigate. Race hugged Katherine from behind, rested his chin on her shoulder and said “Whatcha cookin’ there girlie.” She went digging for a spoon and gave him a taste of the mulled wine that was warming in the pot.  
  
Jack turned to Spot arms crossed “So how’d he do today?”  
  
Race called from the kitchen “Spottie you gotta try this it’s like Christmas in a cup!”  
  
Spot patted Jack on the arm as he brushed past him “You heard him Jackie he did good.” He padded over to Racer and Katherine who handed them both tea cups full of the mulled wine and a small plate of cookies to share.  
  
In no time at all the Christmas party was in full swing. Elmer had kept good on his promise and brought leftover golabki z grzybami, which just turned out to be mushroom stuffed cabbage rolls, that were added to the massive pile of food accumulating in the kitchen after Race had grabbed one off the pile deeming them “safe.” He sat noisily enjoying his cabbage roll while all the other boys around him stomachs grumbled. Jack and Katherine laid out trays of snacks that were promptly devoured by their crew. After a while the kitchen became off limits to the lot of them. Miss Medda and Katherine took turns shooing the boys out of kitchen chasing them out with idle threats of no dinner if they kept stealing. After some goading from Spot, Race decided to try his luck stealing some sweets.  
  
Miss Medda caught his hand as it reached for a pastry. “You can have it later honeybee you’ll spoil your dinner. Want me to put it aside for you?” Race looked over his shoulder at Spot who waved him on to try again.  
  
“But Miss I’se a poor deaf orphan. I may not make it to dinner.” He let out a fake weak cough.  
  
She stroked the boys cheek gingerly and smiled “If you don’t stay out of my kitchen I’ll make sure you won’t.”  
  
Race grinned at the threat and pulled Miss Medda in for a hug. While he wrapped his arms around her he grabbed the sweet and shoved it in his mouth while his head was on her shoulder. When she realized what he had done it was too late, Race jumped back with the roll hanging out of his mouth, turned and ran out of the kitchen he jumped a bit when he felt the end of her towel barely graze his back side. Race nearly collided with Spot in the doorway as he caught him around the waist and they split the bounty laughing in delight. Miss Medda waved her spoon at the boys trying to mask her chuckling behind a stern face.  
  
Les waved Race over to a small table in the corner of the room that held a large book and a small bag of gold coins. Davey shot them both an apologetic look as they crossed the room. “What’s up squirt?” Race asked taking a seat. Les furiously shushed him and put a finger to Racer's lips.  
  
“ _Play game_.” Les signed.

 

Spot and Racer pulled up chairs as Davey signed that he was sorry before the rules had even been explained. Les tried to fingerspell out all the rules only confusing everyone further.

 

“It's called dreidel, it’s a betting game you’ll love it Race.” Davey intervened only to have his mouth covered by Les’ hands insisting on silence. After a minutes struggle they all agreed to play with voices off after the rules were explained. Les divided out the chocolate gelt and pulled out a small wooden top. Davey drew out the hebrew letters nun, hey, gimel and shin. He pointed to each of them explaining further “Shin put one in, hay you get half of the pot, nun do nothing, and gimmel is gimme the pot. We all put a coin in the pot to start and then someone spins this and whichever letter face’s up is what the spinner does.”

 

“Also if you make a sound you have to put in two candies every time.” Les tacked on.

 

Race picked up the dreidel to inspect the sides, shooting an accusatory glace at Davey as he checked if it was weighted to one side or the other.

 

“Youngest goes first!” Les yelled launching himself across the table snatching the dreidel out of Racer's hand and knocking the thick book into Spot’s lap sending his chocolate gelt flying everywhere.

 

“First lets get rid of this.” Spot grumbled tossing the library book into the corner.

 

Les looked absolutely disgusted as he cried out “Hey that’s mine!” he retrieved the book and slammed it down angrily glaring at Spot.

 

Glancing down Spot realized just why the child thought it was so important to their game. Flipping through the first few pages he realized it was a sign language dictionary. Smiling at the realization he settled into the game. Dreidel was easy enough to play after the letters were learned but most of the fun was found in Les’ addition to the game. Their signs were sloppy, hard to read, and often had to be repeated, mirrored or referenced but by God were they fun. After two rounds the “voices off” rule already needed to be revised to not include laughter because they had all run out of sweets and the center pot overflowed.

 

The aggressive fluttering of hands and silent but tumultuous argument unfolding at the small table piqued Elmer’s interest and he wandered over to check it out. After watching the argument die and a round unfold he tapped Race on the shoulder and asked if he could join they all beckoned him to join as he dragged a chair over. Spot redistributed the gelt to deal Elmer in while Race dug through his small collection of papers. He found the one that Davey had written the instructions on, Race quickly scribbled on the bottom “voices off, hands on.”

 

“But I can’t sign.” Elmer complained flapping his hands uselessly in front of him.

 

Spot grabbed the dictionary Les had brought from the library dropped it in Elmer’s lap and signed “ _learn._ ” Earning giggles from Les. Race shot them both a look, took Elmer’s hand and moved and folded his fingers to spell out his whole name while he wrote out the individual letters onto the paper in front of them.

 

“You have to do all that just to say ‘Elmer’?” He asked scrutinizing his own hand.

 

Race shook his head refusing to speak and lose more chocolate coins, flushed a bit pink and signed an “ _E“_ he stroked it up his cheek twice at the corner of a broad smile while he mouthed the word.

 

“That’s my name?” Elmer asked mimicking the sign.

 

Race nodded and sheepishly mumbled “Its an E for Elmer and your dumb smile. I named all of you. It’s dumb but I read about it and it made sense. ”

 

Davey spoke up the quiet rule abandoned for a moment “They’re called name signs it’s so you don’t have to always spell out the person’s name. What’s mine Race?”

 

Racer’s ears went pink as he tapped the forefinger of a D handshape on his chin “it’s like the sign talk with a D for Davey, walkin’ mouth was too long.”

 

“Me next! Me next!” Les yelled running to butt in right between Elmer and Spot. He was satisfied with the “L” for Les being used to illustrate his dimples.

 

“Do I have one?” Spot asked scooting closer.

 

Race beamed and showed him the f hand shape tapped three times on the right collar bone illustrating the small constellation of freckles that lived there.

 

Spot grinned and mimicked the sign double checking that it was right. After a nod of confirmation he asked “What about you?”

 

“Well you’re not supposed to name yourself so I don’t have one.”

 

Spot not at all pleased with this answer grabbed the dictionary and began flipping through it, the sign for race was the same for sport and was too boring, there were already too many loud mouths in Manhattan  so that distinction wouldn’t work. He could go with his curls but no it wasn’t good enough for his Racer. Finally he settled on it, the sign for pistol with the barrel of it being an R. Every time the gun was fired to signal the start of a horse race he couldn’t help but get the biggest grin on his face and run from wherever he was at in the stadium to the edge to watch the race unfold. One time it went off in the middle of a sale, he got so excited he threw the paper at the man and the wind picked it up blowing all 20 some sheets every which way. The man was stunned but by the time he realized what had happened Race was leaning over the railing screaming for the ponies. Even when they knew the gun shot was coming Spot would turn and watch Race when it finally went because the way his eyes lit up like fireworks was a sight to behold.  

 

When he had finished thinking it through Les had taken up a post on Racer's lap and was pointing at people to ask their sign. Spot showed Race his new name with a quick explanation that it was for the gun at the Sheepshead earning him a bright smile almost the same one that the actual sound elicited.

 

After a few of the kids noticed the excitement in the corner the boys started coming up wanting to learn their own names. Albert’s was the same as the sign for _red,_ Mike and Ike were the sign for hat with either an _M_ or an _I_ because that’s the only way Race could tell them apart. Upon learning that they both traded hats and went on their merry ways. The boys came up asking for their names one by one enjoying the game and sharing their name signs with others. Jesse was thrilled to learn his name was the same sign as potato and Ireland. Finch found out his was the flattened letter f opening and closing at the finger and thumb like a bird and went to peck people with it. Crutchie grinned when he learned that his sign had to do with his untidy hair instead of his crutch.

 

As soon dinner was called, there was a mad dash for the kitchens and all thoughts of name signs were pushed aside. A flurry of boys descended on the smorgasbord each coming away with their plates piled high. Race fidgeted in line while they waited praying that tonight’s dinner would be easier to follow than the one before it. Spot took up post next to him at the dinner table shoveling food into his mouth with his left hand while writing everything out with his right. Half way through the meal Spot got a little lost he stood up and silenced the table, he held a finger up while he wrote out the last of the argument that was happening after he and Race were both up to speed he took his seat again and waved the boys on to continue their argument.  The conversations were easy to follow this go around, Race even picked a fight over which horse was best in the upcoming racing season. Between Spot’s writing, lip reading and the boys being a little more cognizant made all the difference in the world.

 

As quickly as the meal started it was over with a room full of boys patting their rarely full bellies. After a few groans of protest a small cleaning crew began to undertake the task that was the kitchen. Spot rose to join Racer and the rest of the clean up crew when he was immediately pulled back into his seat by Katherine demanding him to stay on the account of him being a guest. He glanced over his shoulder to see Race galloping after Elmer cracking him on the backside with a rolled up dish towel. Spot grinned watching him prance about mumbling something under his breath about Race being an idiot. He settled in to an easy conversation with Katherine and Medda while the kitchen was noisily tidied. The clean up would have gone far faster had it not been for the impromptu games of leapfrog, tag and piggyback ride jousting.

 

Medda excused herself shortly after finishing her meal, she made her rounds giving hugs to the boys and dashed off to the theater to set up for the show. Jack and Katherine set up a gingerbread man decorating station in the dining room for everyone to do while they waited to leave for the theater. Jack displayed a few perfectly decorated cookies that the boys could use for ideas. The clean up crew came out of the kitchen with the same swagger of soldiers returning from war. All of them coated in bubbles, the “scars” of a soapy battle. Race emerged from the kitchen with a sopping wet jumper and some bubbles in his hair. He peeled off the wet garment and immediately bee lined for the vacant seat next to Spot.

 

Spot held up his half finished gingerbread man for his inspection as Race snaked his arms around Spot’s waist snuggling into his shoulder. Spot’s cheeks reddened at the embrace and scanned the table to check the others reactions to it. A few of the boys noticed but no one seemed to care they were far more interested in their cookies than the pair. He rubbed the clump of bubbles out Racer's hair getting his attention “ _you okay_ ” he signed awkwardly in front of the both of them.

 

Race mumbled “jus’ a little tired, long day.” and held his mouth open for Spot to pop a gumdrop in it. Satisfied he nuzzled back into Spot’s neck and let his eyes close down enjoying the safety. In a moment he dozed off letting Spot get back to work on piping red icing suspenders on his cookie. The dining room was loud to say the least, the lodging houses always buzzed with all the boys inside, but something about the combination of full bellies, warm wine, and Christmas frivolity turned the usual dull roar into an absolute ear splitting cacophony. Spot’s ears throbbed as he stole a glance at the napping boy on his shoulder and for the first time ever was envious of his new found ability.

 

In no time at all Jack was making rounds getting everyone ready to go to Medda’s show. The dining room emptied out almost immediately as everyone dashed off to pull on boots and coats. “Careful wakin’ that up, Conlon you got a time bomb in your lap.” Jack joked as he too ducked out of the dining area.

 

Spot glanced around checking that he was actually alone before waking Race. He scratched his back causing him to groan in protest “come on up up up.” Spot prompted punctuating each “up” with a thump on the back. Race opened his eyes and glared up at him only softening when Spot placed a chaste kiss to his forehead.

 

Everyone was on little duty tonight, being outnumbered by the kids under the age of 12 Jack assigned groups of one or two kids to everyone over that age threshold. The rules were simple protect your crew, keep them with you on the mile long walk to and from the Bowery, and keep them on their best behavior in the theater. Race glanced around the room at the small packs of kids getting ready to head out Jack himself had six kids between him and Katherine. Jack had kept all of the youngest ones to himself, the smallest of the herd being five year old Jesse who was actively climbing Jack like a tree.

 

“Need a hand with some of ‘em Jackie?” Race asked noticing he and Spot were the only ones not assigned charges. Jesse leapt off of Jack hip and ran for Race. The little one took Racer’s hand in his and pulled him towards the door.

 

“Jesse.” Jack whistled once getting his attention “With me.” The order was clear, Jesse detached from his friend and headed back to his group. Jack scratched the back of his head in thought and turned to Racer with an answer “Nah I got ‘em all, you jus’ stay with Spot okay? He’ll look after ya.” Jack winced realizing how that sounded as Katherine smacked him smartly on the arm as the words came out. Racer’s face fell and he turned back to the crowd to find Spot.

 

The walk to the Bowery went quickly with everyone being in such good spirits. They were ushered to their seats as Miss Medda came around checking if anyone needed anything. The orchestra was loudly tuning up in the pit. Race rested his head on Spot’s shoulder still a touch winded from the long walk. Spot rubbed his back unsure why he was in such a funny mood, his usual loud mouthed self hadn’t said but five words since they had left the lodgings. Spot swayed to the familiar Christmas carol that was being played as a warm up while everyone chatted happily around him. “Is there music yet?” Race asked feeling him sway under him.

 

“Yeah. Can you feel it?” Spot asked hopefully. Race shook his head with a frown. “Take your shoes off, maybe that’ll help?” He offered. Race grinned at the prospect and toed off his boots. He hesitated before pressing his socked feet to the floor trying not to get too excited. He placed his feet down and felt nothing.

 

“Is it still playing?” Race asked defeated. Spot sadly squeezed his hand in a silent confirmation as he deflated and wiggled his boots back on.

 

After a few minutes Spot stood up with the excuse that he needed to use the facilities and dipped off to find Medda. He was gone for a few minutes leaving Race alone with his thoughts and one of Albert’s sleeping charges. Miss Medda came down the aisle and sat down next to him while Spot watched hopefully from a few rows back.

 

“Why the long face sugar?” She asked patting him on the back.

 

“Sorry ma’am just tired.” Race lied offering her half of a smile.

 

“Well I had a favor to ask if you would be so kind to help a lady out?” She waited for his nod of agreement “I need some kids to listen to the story on the stage. Two of my actors couldn’t make it tonight would you be able to fill in for them it’s quite easy work I promise.”

 

“Do you want me to ask some of the littles for you?” Race asked genuinely perplexed.

 

“I think your dark haired friend is little enough. What do you say?” Medda asked standing up and holding out her hand for him. Figuring if he couldn’t hear the music being on the stage would be at least a good place to watch the dances. Race agreed. Music was what he had missed the most. He had tried everything from begging Spot to sing to him in the hospital to pressing his ear against the phonograph in the common room all of it to no avail it was just idle buzzing . He took her hand and allowed himself to be lead out of the auditorium, they ran into Spot at the door who looked pleased with himself. The three of them headed back stage. They were lead to two freshly placed X’s on the stage floor, “Now all I need you gentlemen to do is sit here and pretend to listen to the grandfathers story think you can handle that?” A stagehand laid out two throw pillows and a script on the ground for them as Spot promptly laid himself on his stomach and held his head up with his hands.

 

“Come on Race.”  He patted the spot next to him “I look stupid down here by myself.”

 

Race joined him on the ground almost crying out in astonishment. The thick beat of the bass drum underneath him pounded in his chest, while the high buzz of violins tickled his skin, the rhythmic thumping on the stand up bass sent a buzzing through his very core. The feeling of the music surrounding him was almost sinful. He covered his mouth with his hand as a single tear escaped his eyes. Spot patted him on the shoulder getting his attention.

 

“You okay? You comfortable?” He checked. Race just beamed and nodded not wanting to speak. The music beneath the boys soon died as the play began. It was a simple story of an old man reminiscing about Christmases long gone. Each vein of the story took them back in time as familiar carols were played and the story unfolded in dance. Race wiggled on the floor dancing and bopping in place to the beats and melodies of the carols long etched in his memories. Spot flipped through the script dragging his finger down the page to show what was being sung or spoken, Race couldn’t care less about the script he just luxuriated in being wrapped in the music. Too soon for Racer's liking the show was over and the curtain fell. The boys scrambled to run off stage during the bows but the dancers linked arms with them and had them bow along with them.

 

After the final bows Race peeked down into the orchestra pit waving at the performers. Medda walked up to the pair “You boys did so well!” She praised, Spot grinned up at her but Racer's attention was still on the pit. “Do you think he’d like to go down and bang on the drums?”

 

“Ma’am I think he would absolutely love that. Thank you so much for this. Did you see his face?” Spot asked glancing over at Race. He still laid on his belly and inched himself further and further over the edge of the stage.

 

“I did, he seemed to enjoy himself.” She smiled as Spot kicked Racer's foot.

 

Racer’s head snapped back to look at Spot as he signed “ _Play drums you want?_ ” Racer's eyes went wide and he nodded so hard it looked like his head could have fallen off.

 

Medda lead them down through the basement and into the pit. She explained to the musicians the situation and they gladly played for Race. The tuba player waved him over and had Race stand with his back to the tuba. The deep sound wave that surrounded him went low enough that he felt the buzz stick in his throat. He went musician to musician as they humored him, he pressed his fingers gently on the bottom of the violin as it was played it felt like a kittens purr. The upright bass player showed him how to play a few notes each feeling distinctly different under his fingers. His favorite however was the gong. Miss Medda passed him the mallet and let him go to town. Race smashed the large gong with all his strength and leaned his face only a few millimeters in front of it. He scrunched his nose at the tickling feeling that took over his entire face. Spot watched in delight as Race explored the sounds, by the looks on their faces it was impossible to tell who was happier.

 

Jack stood on the edge of the pit watching the scene unfold below him. He hated to be the one to end the fun but it was getting too late and a few of the boys were already asleep in their seats. “Oi, Conlon. We gotta wrap this up and head out.” Spot nodded unsure of just how late it was and went to collect Racer.

 

“We have to go Jack’s roundin’ us up.” Spot said stopping the vibrations of the gong with his hands.

 

“Three more?” Race protested like a child.

 

“One more.” Spot gave in.

 

“Two more?” Race tried wiggling his eyebrows.

 

“Racer.”

 

“Fine one more.” Race hauled back and smashed the gong one last time laughing at the buzz.

 

After many thank you’s and hugs goodbye the boys headed out the doors and into the streets. Tiny snowflakes fell from the sky sticking in hair and eyelashes. The majority of the boys spent most of the walk laughing and catching the snow on their tongues. Spot and Race walked with Albert who was  carrying his charge that had fallen asleep at the theater. The whole lot of them sang Christmas carols as they marched through the streets of New York. Games of tag broke out sporadically within the group as the younger boys darted in and out of the pack of newsies that Jack and Davey herded from behind. In a push to get them off the streets and out of the snow sooner Jack ran to the front of the pack and slowly began jogging until his group kept up with him.

 

Six blocks in Racer's chest began to twinge from a mix of the cold air, the long day and the quick pace Jack and Davey set for them. He grabbed Spot’s hand in an attempt to ground himself. Spot glanced up at him checking in, Race gave him a small pained smile in return. Not at all happy with this reassurance Spot turned to face him keeping pace as he walked backwards “What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothin’” Race puffed out shaking his head as the pain in his chest slowly became overwhelming. Spot searched his face. He tried to mask the pain behind a smile. His legs began to shake beneath his weight as his lungs heaved in breathless urgent gasps. Spot tried to support him but he was pushed away. Race stumbled once crashing into Elmer’s back but he was able to get his feet under him before actually falling “Sorry.” He breathed “tripped on a crack.”

 

“Racer, buddy let’s take a break.” Spot said tugging at his hand. Race shook his head and pressed on. After 100 more feet his knees gave out completely he didn’t even have time to react before collapsing face first on the ground. “Tony!” Spot bellowed as he rushed forward kneeling on the ground and collecting the boy into his lap. Everyone stopped at the commotion as Race writhed in pain in Spot’s arms.

 

“I- can’t -breathe” he choked on the words in panic as he clawed at his chest.

 

Spot yanked his head back opening his airway, undid his scarf, and the zipper on his coat. “You gotta try.” Spot said firmly as he grabbed one of Racer's hands, he had found out long ago that him panicking never helped in these situations. He held Racer's hand under his own nose and took deep exaggerated breaths in and out for Race to feel and attempt to mimic while he clung onto him.

 

All of the boys were too eager to help. There were too many hands on him at once. Race peeped his head up seeing all the eyes that bored holes into him. He tried to shy away from them curling further into Spot as he struggled for breath. “Make ‘em stop lookin’ at me like that Spottie.” He whispered barely audibly. Race couldn’t be sure of what was being said but the deep vibrations felt angry to anyone other than him. The strong arms held him close as everything else about the boy said to back away. When the last of the hands were removed he chanced another peek out of the safety of Spot’s chest to see Jack and Crutchie crouching in front of the pair while Davey ushered the rest of the herd towards the house. “Please go away Jack.” he mumbled his face bright red with embarrassment. Jack didn’t budge.

 

“You heard him Cowboy. Go away.” Spot growled baring his teeth as Jack reached out a hand to touch Racer. Spot pulled Race in closer to protect him from the unwanted touch.

 

“He’s my responsibility.” Jack snarled back as Crutchie put a hand on Jack’s shoulder to pull him back.

 

“Oh so now you suddenly care about him? He’d be dead if you had your way.” Spot snapped fiddling with the collar of Racer's shirt trying to loosen it one handed.

 

“You need to learn some respect he’s still my kid an’ you’se still on my turf.” Jack warned as he reached forward and tried to pry Race from Spot’s arms causing him let out a pained sob.

 

Spot pulled him closer “Watch yourself Kelly or I swear  I’ll make him part of Brooklyn.” He turned to face Race listening to his breathing deepen “That’s good buddy in and out.” Spot soothed running his hand slowly up and down Racer's chest to coax deeper breaths out of him.

 

Jack scoffed at him rolling his eyes “I’d like to see you try to handle him an’ Brooklyn.”

 

“If I can handle a borough twice the size o’ yours, I can handle a Racer.” Spot cocked an eyebrow at him “Unlike some.”

 

Before he could respond Crutchie intervened “Alright, alright that’s enough! Both of you put the rulers away and zip up. Jack he doesn’t want you here now go.”

 

“Crutch…” Jack started.

 

“I said go.” Crutchie’s words were final but he offered Jack a small apologetic smile. Jack got up and went to catch up with the pack of boys who were only half a block in front of them. “How’s he doin’?” Crutchie asked Spot as Race kept his eyes tight shut and his fist clenched at his shirt but the wheezing had stopped and he no longer jolted in flashes of invisible pain.

 

“I think he’s alright.” Spot said not looking up from the boy. “I dunno if something is wrong wrong or if it’s just tired wrong.” After a few minutes the snow began falling in thick clumps. Spot shielded the boy from it the best he could.

 

“Let’s get him home an’ we can figure it out, nothing good is gonna come of all of us freezin’” Crutchie said standing up his right leg displeased about him crouching on it for so long.

 

Spot stood still cradling Race to his chest. Height was all that Race had on Spot, even being a head taller Spot had more than enough muscle mass to carry him to the moon and back.

 

“Put me down.” Race cried struggling to get free. Spot put him down and his knees buckled under him instantly. He whimpered a bit as Spot picked him back up but this time made no further attempts of protest. Race let his eyes close down as Spot’s steps swayed him side to side.

 

“He’ll be fine.” Crutchie assured Spot who kept stealing glances at Race. “Long days do it to all of us.”

 

“Speak for yourself.” Spot said quicker than he intended.

 

“So how’d he actually do today?” Crutchie asked knowingly.

 

Spot chewed his lip in consideration and like a flash unloaded everything onto Crutchie. He originally intended to keep everything about today a secret that he would take to the grave. Once the words started coming though he was powerless to stop them. He told him everything about Race being to scared to sell alone, winding up in a snowbank, his meltdown over his hearing and the medicine mix up. He meant to stop after giving him a medical update but the information just kept coming out.  He told Crutchie about their awkward first kiss, that they spent the lunch rush in his room perfecting it until their teeth no longer clinked together. How they spent a few hours just talking. Crutchie listened nodding through it, he may not be like them but being a hopeless romantic at heart he could always appreciate love in whatever form it took.

 

“You’re too good to him.” Crutchie said nudging his arm “Keep it up.” Spot scoffed out a chuckle but said nothing. They walked in silence for a bit until the lodging house appeared in the distance. “You may wanna stand him up. He ain’t gonna like everyone seein’’ im like that. ‘Specially the kids.”

 

Spot hated to do it but he shook the boy awake. Race glared up at him grumbling for a second and shut his eyes again. Spot shook him again, he couldn’t help but smile at Racer's grumpy glare. “We’s almost home you wanna walk in? Ain’t no shame in needin’ help though.” Race nodded judging how far they were from the front door.

 

“Put me down.” Race mumbled when they got to the stairs. Spot obliged and set him on his feet ignoring the hiss of pain that escaped his lips. Race teetered up the stairs while the other two flanked him. He walked through the front he was immediately greeted by everyone waiting for him in the foyer. Spot ushered him into the parlour and onto a couch while Crutchie sent the rest of the kids off to bed. Elmer, never the one to listen bounded into the parlour with one of the few leftover rum cookies in hand.

 

“You got him for a sec? I gotta mix this.” Spot asked Elmer holding up Racer's med bottles.

 

Elmer waved him off and curled up next to Racer who gladly took the sweet.

 

A few minutes later Spot came back carrying Racer's medication, a glass of water and a single sugar cube he had found in the depths of the cupboards. As he rounded the corner he heard Elmer and Racer laughing with each other taking a moment to enjoy the sound he stayed behind the doorway eavesdropping.

 

“Aren’t you scared he’s gonna murder you in your sleep?” Elmer asked.

 

“Who Spottie?  Nah he’d wake me up for that, he’d wanna see the light leave my eyes.” Spot could hear the smile in Racer's voice and stifled a laugh.

 

“Are you really not scared of him? Like at all?”

 

“You scared a Mush? They’se the same level o’ softie.” Race joked. Spot couldn’t stand for this and snuck up behind Race as Elmer went bug eyed with the realization that Spot heard everything.

 

Spot dipped his fingers in the glass of water and flicked some of it on the back of Racer’s neck causing him to jump and turn around. “Who you callin’ soft Higgins?” Spot asked trying to keep his face as serious and stern as possible.

 

Race looked to Elmer for help but in a flash he darted out of the room leaving Race to deal with this on his own. “Cookie?” He offered holding out his half eaten sweet to change the subject.

 

Spot barked out a laugh, took the cookie, and squeezed in between Race and the arm of the couch even though the rest was vacant. Spot had never been one for public displays of affection but Race had always had a need for physical closeness and who was he to deny him that simple comfort. Race went to cuddle in but Spot pushed him back and held out the small juice cup with the cloudy green medicine. “Come on man it’s a necessary evil.” Race wrinkled his nose at it but slugged it back in one gulp, then chugged the water and opened his mouth for Spot to pop the sugar cube in that he waved in front of him. Spot held out his arms for him to snuggle into after putting the glasses down. After a moments silence he tapped his chin getting his eyes. “You feeling better? You scared me back there.”

 

Race nodded and stretched a bit wincing.

 

“What hurts?”  Spot asked rubbing circles on his back.

 

“Everything?” Race said his voice filled with uncertainty “And nothing at the same time its just that I feel all of me.”

 

Spot went digging through the bag of drugs and came back up with the smallest bottle “Do you want some of this?” Spot asked holding up the clear bottle of morphine.

 

Race pulled a face and shook his head. “No that makes me stupid.”

 

“Oh do I have some bad news for you.” Spot teased.

 

“Stupider, then.”  Race chuckled snuggling into Spot’s lap.

 

Spot traced his featured as he began to drift of to sleep. “Hey,” Spot called bouncing his leg to wake the boy “Wanna go to bed?”

 

“Oh Spottie, at least buy me dinner first.” Race wiggled his eyebrows and shot Spot a cheeky grin.

 

Spot sighed in exasperation and started wiggling his way off the couch. Race whined and grabbed after him “Come on let's get you to bed. I gotta get back to my boys you know how they get.”

 

“Just stay.” Race whined holding onto the last syllable for as long as possible.

 

“I can’t.” Spot whined back mocking his tone.

 

Race sat up on the couch griping and grumbling, he glanced at the window seeing the snowfall in thick heavy clumps, the streets already covered in white. He grabbed Spot’s wrist to try to pull him back to the couch and said “You gotta stay, look, you’ll catch your death out there.” Race joked echoing the last words he had ever heard Spot speak to him.

 

Spot sucked in the breath between his teeth remembering he pulled his wrist free and looked down at the smile on Racer’s face. “I’m sorry.” He didn’t know how to apologize, what to say or how to say it.

 

“Don’t be sorry just stay and keep me warm.” Race said playfully not catching on to the wheels turning in Spot’s head.

 

Spot reached down and gingerly stroked his cheek. “Really Tony I’m so sorry. For- for everything. I should have made you stay. Then none of this would have happened.”

 

“You don’t really blame yourself for this shit do you?” Race asked grabbing the hand that was on his cheek, he took his silence as his answer. “It ain’t your, fault it ain’t no ones fault.”

 

“I’m sorry. I have to go.” Spot tried to tug his hand away but Racer wouldn’t relinquish it.

 

“If you really blame yourself stay and make it up to me.”

 

“Don’t be dumb. I can’t fix this.”

 

“Then don’t be stubborn and try to. Come to bed with me, I’m tired.”

  


“Tony-” He started ghosting his thumb over the boys cheek.

 

“Sean. Enough this isn’t your fault, but if it makes you feel better I forgive you.” Race turned and kissed the palm of his hand. “We will figure this all out together, like you said but for now let's just go to bed.”

 

Racer lead Spot up to his bunk room on the fourth floor, stopping on every landing to steady himself Spot waited patiently fiddling with things here and there so he could take all the time he needed. The bunk room was pitch black, someone had pulled the curtains. The pair made quick work of washing up for the night and Race tugged Spot to his corner bunk. They laid face to face in the dark together as their legs intertwined.

 

Race put his hand on Spot’s cheek feeling the boy smile under him. “Will you try sellin’ with me again tomorrow?” He asked only loud enough for Spot to hear.

 

He nodded under his hand and kissed his wrist.

 

“All day?”

 

Spot shook his head no.

 

“Spottie!” Racer loudly whined.

 

A series of whoops rang out in the bunk room one of the boys were even brave enough to call out “Get some Conlon!” the noise only died when someone else shushed the room.

 

Racer grinned as he felt the heat pool in Spot’s cheek, Spot laid a finger across Race’s mouth shushing him and chuckling at the Manhattan kid’s response. He thanked his lucky stars he wasn’t in Brooklyn for the night knowing his boys would tear the mickey out of him for such a thing.

 

They both drifted off to an easy sleep.

 

At six a.m. sharp the morning bell rang out like it always did. Only a fair few of the newsies made there way out to sell on Christmas Eve but for Race it was a personal goal. Spot scratched his back to slowly wake him up but in a minute he was out of bed hurriedly pulling on his clothes. He didn’t bother waking anyone else, the pair grabbed some leftovers and headed out for the day. With Spot by his side he ordered his 15 papers with ease and made his way to the streets. They wandered through lower manhattan chatting happily while Race decided on a good selling spot.

 

Spot couldn’t bring himself to sell anything other than the Brooklyn Eagle so he simply borrowed one of Race’s papes and read it while sitting against a lamp post as he worked. He smiled watching Race in his element, there were fewer people milling about because of the holiday but that didn’t put a damper on Race’s charm. His lip reading had gotten good enough he hadn’t even needed to pull the pity card. Ten papers in he beamed with pride at accomplishing the simple task that was impossible yesterday. He held up the remaining four papers and said “Spot look!”

 

Spot grinned up from the paper he was reading nodding encouragingly “You’se doin’ great kid.” He pointed behind Race to signal there was a woman looking to buy.

 

“Any good headlines today?” She asked kindly, her scarf covering her mouth. She humphed when the boy didn’t respond and just held out the paper to her.

 

“He’s deaf ma’am, can you please move your scarf so he can see your lips.” Spot asked sweetly from his post on the ground.

 

Racer stood mildly confused as to why the woman wouldn’t take the paper.

 

“Oh dear me!” She exclaimed looking past Race and speaking to Spot, her scarf still blocking her mouth “I’m so sorry sweetie, he doesn’t look deaf.”

 

Racer looked over his shoulder at Spot who had stood up and put his hand on the taller boys shoulder. “You’re right. I’ll lop off his ears an’ make sure to put a label on him tomorrow, now buy the pape or hit the bricks.” With a huff she handed the boy a quarter took the paper and stomped off nose in the air.

 

“What was she saying?” Race asked mildly embarrassed.

 

“She was just bein’ dumb but look you’se got a quarter. Told ya we’d make millions.”

 

Race grinned at the coin “Hell yeah we will.”

 

Spot folded up his paper and smacked Race’s behind with it “Now get back to work my cash cow.” Spot grinned as Race began calling out the headlines again, knowing that they would be just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think guys!


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a really long garbage fire but I’m posting it anyway.

The phrase “The more things change the more they stay the same” has always held true, especially in the Lower Manhattan Newsboy Lodging house. In the first weeks of the new century Katherine, Davey and Les had unofficially became the newest permanent fixtures to the lodgings. Katherine insisted that her frequent overnight visits were because it was closer to work but in reality it was due to the fact she could no longer sleep in a sprawling mansion after her previous one had burnt to the ground. With a few well placed lies of her staying at friends houses here and there she had been able to secure her own private bunk in the lodgings. Les and Davey however were forced out of their home because it had gotten too expensive to keep the boys. As much as it broke Mrs. Jacobs’ heart, David took extra care in assuring her they would both be fine and stop by often. Even with the new additions the house fell into its usual routines and rituals.

 

It had taken about a month but Racer had finally been able to fall back into an easy routine. Every day went the same; wake up, take meds, wake the others, get dressed, buy papers, more meds, sell papers, meds again, piss of Jack, hunt down bread, wash up, choke down impossibly more meds, sleep, repeat. He never knew how or why or even when the routine had become set in stone but for him it meant more than just safety it meant staying alive. If monotony was the only thing keeping him alive and Jack somewhat out of his hair well it was a price he was more than willing to pay.

 

His new routine had an effect on everyone else’s as well. Elmer for example had now started everyday delivering Race to Spot after he confided in him just how scared he was being in the city alone. “So what’s it like datin’ Soft Conlon?” Elmer had asked one morning when he and Race were halfway to the bridge.

 

Racer’s eyes went wide with excitement at realizing just what Elmer had called him. “We ain’t datin’. But” He continued with a wiry grin “I’ll buy your papes for a week if you call him that to his face.”

 

Elmer winced realizing his joke had backfired. “Hell no! He’d kill me!”

 

“Then you buy my papes tomorrow and I’ll forget it ever happened.” Race offered wiggling his eyebrows.

 

Elmer went digging in his pocket and pulled out his last few cents. It was barely enough for rent for the night let alone an extra day of papers. “Fine. I want a hundred papers every day this week then.”

 

“You can’t even sell ten. If you live through this I’ll buy ya fifty a day an’ that’s my final offer.” Race spat into his hand and held it out to Elmer who did the same and sealed the agreement.

 

Elmer took a deep breath as they turned onto the Brooklyn Bridge. At the ripe old age of 14 he had decided he had lived a good long life and if it ended on this fine morning then he’d at least die with dignity.

 

“Hey Spottie!” Racer called seeing the boy halfway across the bridge. He nudged Elmer to get him to speak.

 

“Hi-hiya Sof-Soft Conlon.” Elmer stammered out barely more than a whisper but definitely loud enough for Spot to hear him.

 

“What did you call me?” Spot asked eyebrows raised “Say it again.”

 

“Yeah Ellie say it again.” Race was downright giddy.

 

“I’d rather not.” Elmer said looking at his feet he braced himself for whatever was coming.

 

One glance at Racer told Spot absolutely everything he needed to know, he had put Elmer up to it for some reason or another. Race hopped back and forth from one foot to the other, while he bit his lip trying to hide his pure joy. Spot took Elmer by the front of the coat and backed him into the nearest post on the bridge. He took extra care to speak through his teeth so Race couldn’t read his lips “I’m not gonna hurt ya. I’m guessin’ he put you up to this. Wanna watch him squirm?”

 

Elmer glanced over at Racer who was still so happy with this outcome and nodded to Spot. Spot quickly lifted Elmer up by the front of his coat shaking him once to make sure it was secure and moved to dangle him off the side of the bridge.

 

“Uh Spottie, he was just playin’ I made him say it.” Race started as all the joy dissolved and panic set in.

 

“Grab on to my arm I got ya.” Spot told Elmer who quickly obliged. Spot swung the boy over the railing as Racer screamed.

 

“SPOT! No! I made him say it!” Race shrieked. “It was me! I made him say it on a bet!”

 

Spot brought the boy back over the railing and set him on his feet. “Why? You think I’m soft huh Racer? Maybe I should chuck you ova?”

 

“No! I said if he called you it I’d buy his papes for a week! It was a joke Spottie just a joke. You ain’t soft.” Race slowly approached the two hands up in surrender.

 

“Buy his papes for two weeks an’ we’ll call it square.”

Race nodded as Spot released Elmer’s coat. Elmer stumbled out a quick thank you and ran back to Manhattan as fast as his legs could carry him.

 

“You weren’t really gonna… you know drop him?” Race asked when they were off the bridge in Brooklyn.

 

“Nah, just wanted ta get poor Elmer the most bang for his buck,” Spot said nudging him playfully.

 

“Jerk.” Race mumbled.

 

They walked around Brooklyn the same as everyday walking towards the Sheepshead Races. They hadn’t yet made it all the way there before Racer became too tired to continue but each day they got closer and closer to their goal. Spot predicted that by racing season he would be able to get there and back with energy to spare. Race bounded along selling his papers with ease. He shamelessly flirted with the women and joked with the men who came by.

 

Both he and Spot had discovered that practicing sign language in between sales was the easiest way to get to keep the change of nickels and dimes. However Racer’s deafness was the one few things neither of them were comfortable lying about. They used it to their advantage but could never bring themselves to exaggerate it. Albert had suggested him pretending to be mute as well. Buttons had made a comment that he still sounded “too normal”. Regardless of the selling tips they had been offered they had just both silently agreed to stick with signs. They used their hands to argue, tease each other or sometimes just chat. The signs were still sloppy but they served their purpose. Racer’s favorite however was when Spot would use their secret language to discuss the customers who overdid the pity.

 

“Can you tell him he’s such a brave little soldier?” One woman asked she gave Spot a dime for a paper.

 

Spot waved to him to get his attention “ _She says you look like a bitch._ ” he signed with a smile.

 

Racer held a hand to his chest in gratitude and grinned as his hands quickly fluttered out on of their most used phrases. “ _Fuck off, Spot_.”

 

“He says thank you so much ma’am, your kind words will help him press on.” Spot said to the woman with a smile pocketing the coin.

 

In no time at all they had finished selling and sat down for an early dinner splitting the profits 50:50 before heading back to the Manhattan Lodgings.

 

Wednesday nights were for ASL classes. Davey had been the one to suggest it mainly to keep Les at bay. The little ones thirst for learning the language was downright insatiable. He loved being able to talk to David and Race without anyone else knowing what he was saying. His favorite was being able to find a loophole in the “no talking with your mouth full” rule at the dinner table that even since they moved David still held him to. Les was able to stuff his face and carry on his conversation with no need for a break. Davey spent a few hours a week preparing the classes half of it was vocabulary the other half was proper grammar and sentence structure. Race and Spot had no use for the latter but stuck it out regardless.

 

When they arrived to the Duane Street house that night Spot immediately picked up on how quiet it was even from outside. There were less kids milling about even though it was well past 7. Jack chatted with Romeo by the hearth soaking up what little warmth it gave off. The cold seeped into the house throughout the winter, come mid January they kept their coats on inside if they were dry enough. Katherine sat cuddled up with no less than four little ones in her lap and a whole flock sitting tailor style on the floor while she told them a story about a beanstalk and an ogre.

 

Davey passed out this weeks vocabulary list and what they were going over in the two hour long silent lesson. This weeks lesson was on classifying distances and giving directions.

 

Jack wandered over to Katherine and sat at the floor at her feet with the little ones while she finished the story. “-And so Jack, his mother, Milky White, the hen and the golden harp all lived happily ever after.” she finished. Shortly after the kids scattered every which way

 

“So Ace, where’s my magic hen?” Jack asked moving to sit with her as she curled into his shoulder.

 

“You are going to have to steal it from an ogre in the sky. Were you really not listening?” Katherine teased as she smoothed her skirts.

 

“Do I ever really listen?”

 

“Never.” She said punctuating it with a kiss on his jaw.

 

The kiss was greeted with a chorus of “eww’s” from some of the kids that lingered, Spec’s and Crutchie joined in the shaming from across the room not sure what they were expressing their distaste for.

 

“Alright alright, enough you goons.” Jack shushed them chuckling.

 

“Jack, you know I love your boys right?” She asked only loud enough for him to hear it, he nodded “But we need a proper night out, you and I.”

 

“Sounds good ta me I ain’t been off in ages. When ya thinkin?” He asked playing with her hand.

 

“Friday maybe?”

 

“Can’t Friday.” Katherine gave him a small pout “Now don’t cha go lookin’ at me like that. Crutch and Davey have been savin’ up to go to a motion picture for months, they’se goin’ this Friday, been talkin’ about it for weeks.”

 

“Maybe we can go with them.” She offered picking a fuzz off of his vest “Or go to Medda’s or even just for a walk in the snow anything just as long as it’s with you.”

 

“We will jus’ not Friday, I ain’t got no one to watch the house if they’se gone.” Jack said ignoring her pout.

 

As if on cue Racer screamed from the table “My arms ain’t a mile long you insolent fuck!” Davey promptly shushed him while Les tried to look up the sign for insolent.

 

“Race can watch the house.” Katherine offered smiling at the outburst.

 

“That ain’t funny Ace, come on.” Jack said genuinely offended.

 

“Who said I was joking, he’s still your second, let him babysit for just one night.” Katherine insisted before Jack could protest she called out “Racer, come here doll.”

 

Spot smacked him on his shoulder, signed princess with a k for Katherine and sent him over. He padded over and stood in front of the pair.

 

“What’s up Kathy-girl?” Race asked stuffing his hands in his pockets to keep them from speaking too.

 

Katherine nudged Jack in the ribs with her elbow making him speak “Would you mind holdin’ down the fort on Friday? We’se got a date. If you got plans it’s fine we can reschedule.”

 

“Really like for real?” Race beamed he quickly tried to conceal his excitement “I mean yeah, sure thing Jackie.”

 

“Thanks kid.” Jack smiled.

 

Race went bounding back to the table whispering excitedly to Spot that he got to lead the house again for a night. Spot pulled him in for a hug and whispered over his head to Jack “Thank you,” before they both returned to their lessons.

 

*

 

Thursday came and went the same as all the days before. Racer couldn’t stop carrying on about taking the lead on Friday. Spot listened as he told the same stories over and over again about all the shenanigans they would try to get into before Jack got home. By dinner time it started sleeting and on Spot’s insistence Race spent the night in the Brooklyn house with him and his boys. After a few rounds of poker with Itey Bumlets and Sniper, Race retired next to Spot on the couch. Exhausted from the long day he snaked his arms around Spot’s waist and snuggled into his shoulder.

 

Spot immediately pushed him off and jumped off the couch yelling “Did you really just try to pickpocket me?” he quickly signed “ _not here, never here._ ” noticing the unfriendly glares from Hot Shot and his friends. Spot moved to sit on the couch across the room leaving Race alone. They waited for the majority of the Brooklyn boys to head to bed before retreating to Spot’s room for the night.

 

“What was that downstairs?” Race asked sitting on Spot’s bed.

 

Spot quickly shook his head “Nothin’, jus’ go to sleep.” he padded about the room checking the locks on his door and making sure the windows were covered.

 

“You embarrassed of me or somethin?” Racer asked his own cheeks flushing.

 

“No, God no not at all. It just it ain’t safe here. Whatever this is,” Spot gestured at himself then at Racer ”it’s just not how things go here.”

 

“Itey saw us before.”

 

“I know but- that’s- he’s Itey he’s harmless. We could burn this place to the ground and as long as no one got hurt Itey wouldn’t care. But you ‘member when I said I think Shot wants Brooklyn?  I just don’t wanna make it easier for him to justify gettin’ it.”

 

“Eh just hand it over if it gets me you.” Race said making grabby hands at the boy.

 

Spot barked out a laugh “If it were that easy it’d be done but that ain’t how things work round here.” Racer tucked into the covers watching Spot’s lips move, the longer he had known him the easier they were to read.

 

“How do things work round here then Spottie.”

 

“Either I age out and Itey takes over or…” Spot trailed off unwilling to continue.

 

“Or?” Race prompted.

 

“Or whoever wants to lead gotta kill me.” Spot said flatly Race searched his face but couldn’t find the slightest hint of sarcasm.

 

“That ain’t true.”

 

“That’s how I got it.” Spot mumbled as he hung up his hat.

 

“No it’s not.” Race shook his head in disbelief

 

Spot closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath. “Do you remember Prospect? Two years ago, leader ‘fore me?” Racer nodded once unsure of where he was going with this “You remember when he died?” Another nod “Do you remember how?” Racer thought for a second and shook his head. “I killed him.”

 

“You didn’t.” Racer said with a nervous laugh..

 

Spot began pacing the floor a bit and resigned to sitting on the bed next to Race. He chewed on his lip unsure of how to continue the story but Racer had to know. He flipped his hands over a few times examining them hoping they would know enough of the words so he wouldn’t have to write what Racer didn’t understand.  “I did, I didn’t mean to but I did. Christ I never told anyone this before.” Racer scooted back away from him a fraction of an inch but he continued listening to the story. Spot’s eyes glazed over as he spoke like he was anywhere but in the small bedroom. “We got in a fight over somethin’ dumb... I can’t remember what, probably some smart ass thing I said but he shoved me an’ I just swung at him. I hit him, an hit him, an hit him, an hit him.” Spot closed his eyes wincing at the memory.

 

“You don’t need-” Race began but a hand was promptly held up to shush him.

 

“I gotta tell someone.” Spot took another deep breath and closed his eyes again before continuing.”He stepped back on a bottle and slipped. I remember watching the damn thing roll it happened so slow but so fast. He musta hit his head on somethin’ on the way down, ‘cause there was so much blood, but he started twitchin’ on the ground an’ I went to get Itey... to get help. I wasn’t even thirteen, I didn’t know what to do. But by the time we got back he was gone and I got Brooklyn. They heard us shoutin’ at each other they knew I done it.” Spot’s words caught in his throat but he shook his head to tamp them back down.

 

Race stared at him in disbelief, he hadn’t gotten all of the words but he caught the gist of it.

 

“Hot Shot was pissed wouldn’ look at me for weeks he soaked me more than a few times. I had to stay next to Itey for weeks to avoid gettin’ hit. We kinda just kept moving forward but when somethin’ went sideways in Queens, Hot Shot came up to me an’ told me I had to handle it cause Brooklyn was mine now. I never wanted this position.  It just happened it was an accident.” Spot stopped for a moment looking for any reaction on Racer’s face it was unreadable. “He’s never forgiven me, can’t really blame him but I just can’t have him see us an’ take it out on you. He’s never been one to take kindly to this sorta thing you know? Your boys they don’t seem to care as long as we ain’t hurtin’ no one, but mine… they’re by the book. I can handle a beatin’ or two but I ain’t ready to see you hurt again not ever. If you wanna go home I get it. I can give you my coat an’ get you bundled real good and have Itey walk you back.” Spot brushed away a single tear that threatened to fall from the corner of his eye at the memory.

 

Race stared at him dumbstruck unsure of what to say. He grabbed Spot by the shoulders and guided his head to lay on his chest while he raked his fingers through his dark hair. “Why would I wanna go? It was an accident they happen, you didn’t mean to. Would ya wanna talk to a priest or somethin’ would that help?” Spot let out a bark of laughter and shook his head. Racer rubbed his back rhythmically and spoke again  “I can take Hot Shot so you don’t need to worry about that but we can be more careful.” Racer brushed a single tear off the boys face “It’s okay. So you got some skeletons in your closet we all do.” Spot mumbled something against his chest Racer adjusted them both so he could see him clearly. “Sorry didn’t catch that?”

 

Spot turned and signed as he spoke “You can’t afford a closet.”

 

“You’re right.” Race bent down and kissed the top of Spot’s head before laying them both down on the small pallet bed. “You wanna sleep or you wanna tell me more?” Spot licked his fingers and pinched the candle burning on the nightstand extinguishing it. Racer chuckled and muttered “Sleep it is,” as Spot settled in as the little spoon.

 

When the morning bell rang the next morning Race was using Spot’s head as a pillow. Dribble stuck to Racer’s cheek and tracked down onto Spot’s forehead. Spot scrubbed a hand over his face to rub the sleep out of his eyes when he felt the wet across his head “Ack!” he exclaimed and rubbed it off on Racer’s shirt waking him up far less gently than he prefered.

 

Spot got up off the bed still rubbing at his forehead. “Come ‘ere five more minutes.” Race complained still laying with one eye open.

 

“ _Bell”_ Spot signed quickly pulling on a warm flannel. The sight of Spot’s forefinger striking the palm of his other hand was a sign Racer soon learned to hate, it was just as bad if not worse than the annoying clang in the morning.

 

Racer stayed in bed and threw his arm over his eyes hiding from the day. Spot gave in and laid down next to him lazily placing a kiss on his lips. Spot pulled away and Race pouted, pursing his lips making soft kissy sounds until Spot gave in. A knock on the door broke his attention. Spot shot up, threw a pillow and a blanket onto the floor and shooed Racer off his bed to sit on the floor. He opened the door to see Bumlets who waved to Race a cheery good morning. Spot stepped out and left Racer alone to pull on his clothes from the day before.

 

After a brief argument Spot conceded to sell in Manhattan for the day so Racer could be on time to house sit for Jack. Spot would never be able to sell the Brooklyn Eagle in Manhattan he begrudgingly agreed to sell The World.

 

Before they passed through the gate into the distribution center Davey spotted the pair coming down the street from 100 feet away. “ _Jack thought you were dead._ ” He signed using large exaggerated hand motions so they could be read at a distance.

 

“Sorry to disappoint!” Race called back.

 

They walked through the gate unseen and sneaked alongside the wall to the Delancy’s they both bought their papers, 75 each, for the day as Race set off to find Jack. “Did you see the headline? 38 dead from the plague! Who doesn’t love a good plague.”

 

Jack spun on his heels and advanced on Race “Where the hell were you?”

 

“Buyin’ my papes? Somethin’ wrong Jackie?” Racer asked feigning confusion.

 

“I’ve been lookin’ all over for you.” Jack said as he appraised the boy fixing his clothes as he went. “You feelin’ okay? Get enough sleep? What happened?”

 

Racer furiously smacked Jack’s hands away from him. “I’se fine, the weather got bad so I stayed with Spot. Played some poker won some gloves, went to bed by ten. Usual night. Spot’s sellin’ with me today if that’s okay?”

 

Jack scratched the back of his head as he did a quick headcount, 10 of the boys were home sick with various winter ailments the rest of his herd were all sporting red noses and cracked hands. “Yeah with everyone laid up I guess we can use an extra set of hands out there. But he’s on you any shit he pulls you clean up the mess deal?”

 

“Spot I’m babysittin’ you!” Racer yelled across the crowd, a thumbs up shot up in the middle of the group behind Buttons. Race turned back to Jack and sighed “House sittin’ and little duty all in one day. You work me too hard Cowboy.” Jack cuffed him on the ear and headed into his sea of boys.

 

Although the selling went quick it was Spot’s turn to be uncomfortable. Almost everyone in Brooklyn had known him, but here he was just another kid in the streets. Race on the other hand thrived anywhere with anybody. By the time the lunch rush was over they both only had a few papers left.

 

“Hey mister, wanna see a trick?” Race asked bounding up to an older gentleman “If I can sit on the top a that there lamp you gotta buy a pape from my brother if I don’t make it the papers free. Deal?” He held out his hand eagerly as the man rolled his eyes and shook it. In a second Racer threw his bag at Spot and began shimmying up the lamp post only slipping on the icey bits on the way up to the top.

 

The man nodded somewhat impressed and passed a penny to Spot. “ _Get down._ ” Spot signed to him. Racer shook his head and pressed his hands against the warm glass of the lamppost the tiny fire inside still burning the last bit of oil. As soon as he saw the flicker of the fire he knew he was going to soak in the warmth but if his trick also sold a paper then it was a good day.

 

Race stayed up there a while, calling out headlines and complimenting women on their outfits from across the street. He grinned watching one woman look about trying to find where the voice had come from when he yelled “Fur coat, fur hat, and fur muff oh girl look at you strut.” The woman finally spotted him on his perch and glared at him“No not you ma’am the little one.” He amended pointing to a toddler a few yards behind her matching the same description.  

 

After a few knocks on the lamp post from Spot he finally shimmied down. They quickly counted that his little stunt had sold another seven papers. They signed back and forth as they walked through the streets. A woman pushing a baby in a pram stopped them mid conversation and bought a paper letting them keep the dime. In no time at all the papers were sold and they divided up the money.

 

Race bounded off for the bakery to get a donut that had been taunting him for weeks. “Oh Spottie Boy wait till you see her she’s a beaut, she’s got jelly an’ icing an’ she’s a real looker just you wait.” Race carried on salivating over his prize. When they got to the bakery it was only 5 minutes until closing time. The last of the donuts that matched his description was on display. He pressed his nose to the glass almost drooling while the baker wrapped up the sweet for him. Race paid his nickel and shook with excitement when he was handed the little box. The baker turned back and began to shut up shop for the night. Spot watched him stuffing bread from the shelves into the trash bin and smacked Racer to bring his attention to it.

 

“Uh Mister? What are you doin’ with the bread?” Race spoke up.

 

The man didn’t look over and said “It’ll be two days old come morning its rubbish.” Spot quickly translated it for him.

 

“I’ll buy it.” The man whipped his head around looking at the boys. “I mean I got seven cents? Is that enough? My brothers would love some old bread.” The baker quickly counted how many loaves he had left.

 

“It’d have to be twenty cents.”

 

“You’se just throwin’ it out. Seven.”

 

“No luck kid.”

 

“Seven an’ I gives ya back the donut that’s thirteen cents. Come on it’ll do a lot better with a lot of orphans than in the trash.”

 

The man shook his head at the kids poor math skills “Seven then, you can keep the donut kid.”

 

Paper bags and arms overflowing with bread the two waddled the rest of the way to Duane Street taking extra care to not drop any. The house was still relatively quiet when they got back just Jack and a herd of littles were in the common room. Racer grinned at Jack as he carried his bounty into the kitchen. They placed the mound of bread and rolls onto the island and began sorting it by type.

 

“Whatcha got there bud?” Jack asked leaning against the door frame watching the two work.

 

Spot looked up from the pile and simply answered “Bread.” before returning to the sorting.

 

Race glanced up from his work noticing Jack for the first time “I robbed a bakery Jackie. Poor bastard left the front unlocked so fair game.” He said with a toothy smile, he tossed a roll at Jack with a quick “think fast” he caught it and took a bite savoring it while Racer continued “I figured if everyone sleeps easier with full bellies an’ I ain’t in no mood to put up with any kids whinin.”

 

Spot bit back a smile when Jack cuffed him on the shoulder with a “You did good kid.”

 

Crutchie hobbled in with a few papers left in his bag he winced as he lowered himself onto the couch. Race plopped down next to him “How’s the leg treatin’ ya today?”

 

“Like I murdered his cat. How’s the lungs workin’ for you.”

 

“They remind me of my folks. Useless windbags.” Race motioned for his leg and began massaging the calf while Crutchie rubbed his hip begging it to stop. “Want me to take them back to the gate for you?” Race asked gesturing at his paper bag at a glance there was at least 10 left.

 

“Nah it’s fine.” He said shaking his head as a flare of pain shot through him causing his foot to twitch.

 

“Ya sure? You really wanna eat a nickel?” He watched the wheels turn in Crutchie’s head.

 

“If you wouldn’t mind. I’m sorry.” Crutchie mumbled flushing red.

 

“Don’t mind at all, gimme.” Race held out his hand glancing to check that the room was still empty and stuffed the papers into his waistband and zipped up his coat. He unzipped it as Spot rounded the corner with a slice of bread “Spottie. Imma idiot.” He whined.

 

“Shocking.” Spot deadpanned before plunking down in a chair across the room.

 

“I forgot I had these in here and didn’t sell em can you take ‘em back for me please?” Race fluttered his eyelashes in a useless attempt to look innocent. Spot eyed him dubiously but took the papers he smacked Race upside the head with the small stack before he headed out the door.

 

“Thanks.” Crutchie mumbled gritting his teeth through another spasm.

 

“No problem. You ready for the picture show tonight?”

 

“We’se gonna have to put that on hold if _someone_ doesn’t get their shit together.” He reprimanded his leg.

 

Racer went digging in his bag pulling out the tattered bag of medicines he always kept with him. “I got this?” He held up the small vial of morphine “It helps with pain like a lot.”

 

Crutchie stared at the promising vial “You know how to do it?”

“I don’t, but Spot knows the rules.” A few moments later Spot wandered back in and tossed a nickel to Race he held up a single penny claiming that it was his shipping fee. Race dug in his pocket for a penny and deftly passed the two coins to Crutchie. “Can Crutchie have some of this?” Racer asked holding up the clear liquid. They helped Crutchie into the Katherine’s private bedroom on the first floor while Spot pored over the instructions 10 ml to sedate Race 5mls to control pain.

 

“You want like half a dose and we see how that helps?” Spot asked watching his muscles convulse again. Crutchie thought for a second and nodded while Spot pulled up the liquid to the second line on the tiny syringe. Crutchie jumped a bit at the small pinch but his leg almost immediately stopped writhing. “Better?” Spot asked watching the muscles relax.

 

“So much.” Crutchie sighed as relief swept over him and he let his head fall back onto the wall.

 

“Just what are you gentlemen doing.” Katherine called out when she opened her bedroom door.

 

“Drugs.” Racer said with a smile. Both of the boys shot him a look “We’ll be out in a sec’ Katie-Kat.”

 

She nodded muttering how she would rather they did it in the house and began unpinning her hair while they shuffled out of the room.

 

An hour later Crutchie and Davey were out the door buzzing with excitement over going to the theater. Jack lingered behind making sure Racer was completely okay taking charge for the thousandth time that night. Katherine pulled him out the door while he finished shouting some instructions to him. Within minutes of the door shutting the house burst into absolute mayhem. The kids ran about playing tag, climbing furniture and racing down the banister of the stairs. Racer made his way to the kitchen prepared himself a cup of tea and watched as the house fell into disarray.

 

Spot plunked down next to him sending some of the tea sloshing out of his cup “Is this normal?”

 

“When I got ‘em yeah. When Jack’s here not so much.” Spot nodded taking it all in. He covered his ears for a second to see it as Racer did. It wasn’t bad, it was just loud, a few of the boys started a game of cards and were fighting over spoons, others were running about and a few were reading. If it wasn’t for the yelling it would be downright peaceful by comparison to his house. Spot snuggled in under his arm when he felt Race pull away and let out a hiss of pain. He instantly sat back up with a “What hurts?”

 

“Nothin’ just here’s been twinging for the past few days.” He ran his hand up the right side of his chest.

 

“Lemme see.” Spot pressed an ear to his chest in 4 different spots listening as he breathed deeply for him. “You’se still nice an’ clear you pull somethin?”

 

“Probably.” Race agreed stretching and glancing at the clock “It’s nearly lights out for the little guys wanna help or head out?”

 

Spot hung back watching as Racer called his troops to order. They lined up at the bottom of the stairs as he paced the bottom step like an army general “Alright men the first three of you to be washed up, in night clothes, and under the covers by the time I get up there gets a prize. On your mark, get set, go go go!” He yelled as they all whizzed around him dashing up the stairs as fast as they could.

 

“What’s the prize?” Spot asked somewhat impressed by his technique.

 

Race went digging in his pocket and pulled out some lint and a handful of coins “Pennies? Kids like pennies right?” True to his word he made his rounds and passed out three pennies to his champions. After some hugs, a quick wrestling match and Spot’s help tucking covers around chins the hardest part of house sitting was over for the night. Racer shut out the lights with a “Sleep well my men.” and quietly closed the door

 

In the hallway Spot couldn’t help but steal a quick kiss or two before they headed back to the common floor for the night. With all the kiddies in bed it’s was actually calm. There were still a few games going on but mostly everyone just laid around chit chatting. “Looks like you got everything under control here boss.” Spot teased bumping his shoulder.

 

“Jack’s gonna be so disappointed. Boy hates bein’ wrong.”  Race trotted over to a game of spoons with Albert Elmer and Henry. “Deal us in boys.”

 

“I have to head back to my crew actually. Make sure they’se all still alive.” Spot pulled on his coat ignoring Race’s pouts and complaints as they both walked to the front door. “You got this. Go rule your kingdom.”.

 

Racer grinned and gave his hand a final squeeze before he headed out into the night. The night with the older boys was uneventful everyone ate, played some games and just hung out. A quiet night at home was exactly what everyone needed after a long cold week. Romeo built a fire while Henry told ghost stories. Henry held the boys attention rapt with a story of a boy, his faithful dog, and a monster under the bed. Race smiled as he felt Elmer slowly but surely scoot closer to him.  Racer watched for when Henry’s lips finished the story with “Humans lick too.” And grabbed the back of Elmer’s neck cause him to let out a blood curdling scream. Elmer’s cheeks flushed bright red as the rest of the boys burst into laughter. They all took turns picking fun at the boy Albert even took it a step further and licked a wet stripe up his arm. The outburst had woken the littlest resident of the lodgings as wee Jesse came down the stairs rubbing his eyes. Albert was the first to see him he waved to Race to get his attention and signed “ _Potato”_ from across the room.

 

“What’s up buddy?” Race asked stooping down to the boys level. His eyes and nose were red and swollen from tears.

 

“Bad dream.” Jesse mumbled rubbing his eyes while Race smoothed his bright hair. He threw his arms around Racer’s neck and refused to let go. Race sighed and resigned to scooping up the boy and carrying him to the kitchen. The mound of bread was demolished to a pile of crumbs and a few torn leftover chunks. He sat the boy on the counter and pried his hands off of him.

 

“Wait here a second.” Race went fumbling about the pantry and pulled out the small box from the baker that he was saving. He tore the sweet in half the jelly oozing everywhere. “Now this is our secret okay?” Race said sternly he waited for the boy to nod before crawling up on the counter next to him and reluctantly handing over half of the sweet.

 

Jesse demolished his half of the donut before his mentor had taken his first bite. Race couldn’t help but laugh at the boys jelly covered face “Mista Wasetrack? Awe you gonna finish that?”

 

Race considered for a second but sighed as he tore his piece in half again “Try to taste it this time okay?” He watched as the kid physically restrained himself from stuffing it in his mouth in one go. “Good job buddy.” Race praised as he finished his piece. He padded about the kitchen feeling the twinge in his right side deepen After a quick argument he agreed to let the boy stay up with the older boys mainly because he was unsure if he’d be able to make it up the stairs twice more in one night. After a few minutes the little one fell asleep on the couch as a Henry Specs and Buttons excused themselves to bed. One by one the kids filtered out leaving Race Albert and Elmer alone at the card table.

 

Albert dealt out another hand of Snap as they chatted. “Hey Race can I ask you somethin’?”

 

“Yeah go.”

 

“Is there anything scary about…” Albert pointed to his own ears “you know?”

 

“Bein’ deaf? You can say it. It ain’t a bad word.” Race thought a second “It ain’t half bad I get to ignore you guys any time I want. But it’s not scary.”

 

“Any of it?”

 

Racer stroked his imaginary beard deep in thought “I mean the scariest part is probably when ya take a bath an’ get soap in your eyes and ya gotta come to terms with bein’ blind on top of it but once you get over that it ain’t so bad.” He said seriously watching as the two caught onto his joke.

 

“That explains so much.” Albert said seriously “We’se was wondering why ya smell that way. Elm you hear that you ain’t the only one scared of the tub.” They both laughed

 

Elmer wiggled his fingers at him like a ghost and moaned “Buuuuuuubles.”

 

Racer made a show of sniffing himself then Elmer “I still smell bettah than you!”

 

He laughed along with them wondering what really was the scariest part about it. The two continued picking at each other while he thought. What was the scariest part? Knowing he’d never have a proper job? Not hearing people come up behind him still freaked him out. But no the scariest thing was the fear of what the future held. He'd never hear his sons first cry or his daughters laughter. Those were a given but those people weren’t real not yet at least. What he feared the most was forgetting. Forgetting just how thick Spots accent was, forgetting Elmer’s cheeky laugh and the way Albert could never pronounce water right. Forgetting what music sounds like not just the feeling of, the sounds of birds and rustling wind, forgetting the noise of the lodging house and never being able to learn the sounds of wherever he would live in the future.

 

Albert waved a hand in front of him pulling him back to the moment “Can you hear anything at all?”

 

“I mean you’re talkin’ an it’s stone silent but if I eat carrot or something really crunchy I can hear it a little.”

 

Jack and Katherine turned the corner to see the house still standing. Jack let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

 

“See baby I told you they’d be fine.” Katherine teased bumping his hip.

 

They stayed outside passing the house for a quick loop around the block not wanting their night together to end. Half a block away they were able to hear the ear splitting scream that came from the lodgings. Jack took off like a shot towing Katherine behind him when another scream rang out that was distinctly Elmer’s. They burst through the door as Albert and Elmer screamed again. Falling into the living room Jack yelled “What the hell is goin’ on?”

 

The two had their heads pressed together in front of Racer’s open mouth they were taking turns screaming into it. When Jack burst in they looked at him like deers caught in headlights. Albert straightened out “He can hear carrots.” He offered as an explanation.

 

“What?” Jack threw his hands in the air exasperated as Katherine laughed behind him.

 

“He can hear carrots in his mouth we thought he’d be able to hear if we screamed in his mouth.” Albert explained realizing how silly the experiment was half way through the sentence.

 

Jack scrubbed a hand over his face in exasperation “Why wouldn’t he just try hollerin’? You know what no just go to bed.”

 

The two scurried off, by the grace of god their experiment didn’t wake the entire house. Race walked up to Jack is cheeks tinted pink with embarrassment “How’s it look Jackie?”

 

Jack looked over the house it was surprisingly tidy everyone seemed to be in bed except for Jesse who was curled up on the couch. He took in Race who looked at him expectantly. “Looks great kid. Thanks.” Jack smiled patting his shoulder feeling him relax under him “So could ya hear it?” Race laughed shaking his head “Well next time for sure. Take him up with ya would you?” Jack asked gesturing to Jesse. Race excused himself with Jesse in his arms. Jack patted him on his back and Katherine gave him a peck on the cheek before he headed upstairs. “Wait!” Jack called waving to get his attention.

 

“What’s up?” Race asked on the second step.

 

“Mind watching it again Monday? This ones got me booked pretty tight.” Jack said sticking a thumb at Katherine

 

Race beamed with pride “Sure thing Jackie!” he turned and bounded up the stairs.

 

“What are we doing Monday?” Katherine asked as Race headed up.

 

“Dunno yet but he doesn’t need to know that.” Jack grinned.

 

Katherine went up on tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek she rested her head on his shoulder and whispered “Walk me to my door Mister Kelly?”

  


Halfway up the stairs Racer’s right side started burning again. A quick break on the landing got the pain at bay again. Race carried Jesse to his usual bunk but his bunk buddies had already sprawled out completely covering the bed. Racer sighed and carried the small sticky boy to his own bunk. He quickly changed into pajamas and crawled in next to the tot who snuggled into his arm and they both quickly fell asleep.

 

Racer’s eyes shot open as the pain in his side escalated from a dull twinge to a blinding fire that burned more with every breath. Little Jesse had somehow migrated to his chest in the middle of the night his 35 pounds might have been a million for the amount of effort it took to try to push him off.  

 

“Elmer” he breathed out praying someone heard him the radiating pain damn near unbearable. He laid still hoping he could feel the bed move “Jack” he called once hoping for a response the sounds of his labored breathing filling the bunkroom “J-Jack” he cried again unsure of how loud his voice was or if it was coming at all. He made another try to push the boy off but he just nuzzled his head in further.

  
Then there he was standing in the candle light, Jack lifted the boy from him and unceremoniously dumped him in between Mike and Ike in the neighboring bed. Jack laid a hand on Racer’s shoulder trying to get his eyes. In a split second decision he heaved the boy out of his bunk and carried him to the well lit hall. Racer glanced up at him his blue eyes clouded “Hey buddy I got you what’s goin on what do I need to do.”

 

Instead of a proper response he hugged himself about the middle and turned into Jack’s chest, face scrunched tight as his breath came in an unnerving hissing sound.

  
“Albert Elmer!” Jack called from the hallway hoping they had an idea what to do. His face faded to an ashen grey as his lips tinged blue at the corners. Jack gave him a good shake causing him to scream.  
  
Elmer poked his head out of the bunk room door with a sleepy “Wassup Jackie?”  
  
“Take Albert go get Spot get back here as fast as you can.” Jack demanded his tone softened when he looked back down to the writhing boy in his arms “How’s that sound okay Spot’s gonna come sort this for us he always know what to do with you okay kid?”  


Elmer’s eyes went wide as they passed the two in the hall “Is he okay?”

 

“Does he fuckin look okay? Go get Conlon.” Jack snapped as they dashed out. “He’ll fix it buddy just wait a little bit okay? We’ll get you sorted.”

 

Racer’s eyes were squeezed shut as he let out a moan.

 

“Yeah that’s what I thought to, huh we can let him do the heavy liftin’ you like him better than me anyway. It’s cause he lets you get away with so much.” Jack mumbled on endlessly filling the silence for the both of them.  
  
The sprint to the Brooklyn house went quicker than the two expected it to. No one unsavory or otherwise was on the streets today and they made it record time. They both began furiously pounding on the front door after a few minutes of knocking and yelling a head popped out a few floors above them “Ey we’se closed for the night fuck off.”  
  
“We need Spot.” Elmer called up.

  
“Youse got a death wish or somethin? I said fuck off.”  
  
“Jack Kelly sent us.” Albert yelled after him.

  
“Ain’t that special.” The kid slammed the window shut.

  
The pair shared a look Albert surveyed the empty streets “This is how we die I’m sure of it.”  


Elmer nodded his agreement as they continued pounding on the door.

  
“What’s Kelly want?” A voice came from the roof.  
  
“Race is hurtin’ real bad.” Elmer yelled up.

 

That was all it took. In a minute the lodging house door swung open with a wide eyed Spot Conlon in his winter coat and boots over his pajama pants.

 

“What happened?” Spot’s pace was near impossible to keep up with but they made it back home in record time. To say Spot Conlon wasn’t a morning person was the understatement of the century, even if it were only a few weeks old. He snipped and snapped at Elmer and Albert the whole way asking questions that they didn’t have the answer to. No pleasantries were shared when he burst through the lodging house door.  
  
Jack had Race curled in his lap they were both still in their pajamas Racer’s bed clothes stuck to him with sweat. “What’s going on here Jackie?” Spot asked trying to mask the fear in his voice. “He’s blue, whys he blue what did you give him?” Spot pressed his face under his nose and felt the soft tickles of breath he adjusted Racer’s limp body and pressed an ear to his chest listening to for the tell tale pops that used to take up residence there. He sighed in relief when there were still none to be found. “What happened.” Spot demanded as he took Racer’s cold hands they thankfully still had some color.

  
“I don’t- I’m not sure he just started screaming for me. Jesse was on him but he’s still not being right. He fell back asleep after I brought him down here he was just making some sounds then he started yellin’ his hollerin was upsetin’ the little guys and they wanted to help.” Jack rambled

  
“He was fine when I left.” Spot muttered pressing a hand to his forehead sure enough he was warm “God damnit Race were not doin’ this shit again” he turned to Jack “did you phone his doctor?”  
  
Jack shook his head no.

  
“Give him anything for the pain, tweedle dum and tweedle dee said he was hurt?” Spot ran his hands through his hair noting how Race had completely curled in on himself.

  
Another no  
  
“Well what have you done with him?” Spot snapped as he wracked his brain.

  
“Brought him down here and got you.” Jack confessed realizing in that moment it wasn’t nearly enough.

 

Spot thought for only a second before he began barking orders “Albert go get me his meds Elmer phone for his nurse her names Elizabeth Cortez I think the numbers are in his pape bag. Jack wake him up.”  
  
“He doesn’t like to be woken up.” Jack commented nervously looking over the boy.

  
“Neither do I an yet here I am at,” he glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner “Jesus Christ 2:30 in the Goddamned morning”  
  
“Is anyone else in the house sick” Spot asked feeling his forehead again. It was hot but not nearly the highest he had felt on the boy.

 

“Yeah loads of em.”  
  
“What?” Spot snapped furiously.

 

“It’s winter Spot you know how this goes just run of the mill sniffles and sneezes but we got a few with fevers. Had to quarantine the smallest bunk room and put em all in there. Had to start packin’ the little guys in like sardines.”  
  
“Jesse was sick?”  
  
“No Jesse’s fine, kid just doubled with Race, everyone is kinda displaced right now.” Jack bounced Racer as his head lolled to the side.

  
“Jackie let me break this down for you. Nothing and I mean nothing is run of the mill until he’s back at 100%.” Spot smacked his cheeks getting small whines out of him. Race tucked his chin back into his chest making a choking sound on each breath. Spot grabbed a handful of curls and pulled his head back “he closes off his own windpipe cause he’s a dumbass.” Spot explained he continued slapping gently at Racer’s cheeks trying to rouse him “come on kid” he mumbled. Spot moved to rub furiously up and down his breast bone leaving his knuckles hot.

 

Racer’s eyes fluttered open and quickly closed back down as he slurred out “‘top-it” they refused to open again even with Spot’s perseverance.

 

Albert and Elmer came flying down the stairs in a minute with JoJo on their tails. Elmer dashed towards the phone in Kloppman’s office quickly picking the lock.

 

Spot dug through the med bag in search of he didn’t know what. “He ain’t breathing.” Jack yelled breaking his focus from the bag. Spot stuck his hand back under the boys nose to feel for the tell tale woosh of air. It was still there but light.

 

“He’s fine.” Spot snapped.

 

JoJo fetched a cool compress from the kitchen. While Elmer periodically poked his head out of the office calling questions to Spot.

 

“His lungs clear?”

 

“Yup”

 

“High fever?”

 

“Nope”

 

“What kind of pain?”

 

“Do I look like I would fucking know that?”

 

“Said it felt like knives.” Jack offered

 

A few minutes later he came out of the office and timorously approached Spot “His nurse lady said she’ll be in on the earliest streetcar. Says it sounds like pleurisy and to keep him comfortable.”

 

Spot glowered at him he wanted immediate help “What the fuck does that mean? Should we take him to the hospital or not?”

 

“I asked she said the wards are chock full of tuberculosis and she doesn’t want him there.”

 

“Great.” Spot muttered rubbing at his chest again as everyone crowded too close for his liking. He took a deep breath before barking more orders ”Jack go get Katherine. Elmer boil some water, Albert can you fill a bag with snowballs, and JoJo get him an all clean outfit cleaned with soap.”

 

“Why?” Jack asked as he laid Race back down on the couch his eyes still sealed shut on Spot’s insistence he turned him on his side before dashing off.

 

“He likes her just go.” With the fools errands dished out he knew he only had a few minutes alone to collect himself and his thoughts.

 

Spot knelt next to his head and slapped him on the cheek a few times before resigning to play in his sweat soaked hair. “Listen up you pain in my ass you ain’t pullin’ this shit you’se almost all better an’ you better fuckin’ start actin’ like it okay? Get it together Higgins an I’ll pay for the ponies okay? We can go to Coney an I’ll get you all the candy floss and corndogs they have an you can throw up on the Airships again. I’ll do whatever you want just stop fuckin’ scarin’ me. I can’t do this you little shit.” He stopped for a minute pinched the bridge of his nose in thought trying to puzzle through this “Tony tell me what to do.”

 

Albert dutifully returned with the snowballs which Spot began laying behind his neck, knees, under his arms, and on his groin like he had seen the nurses do before. Albert chuckled at the last one making a joke about snowballs.

 

“Say it again an I’ll knock your snowballs up into your throat.” Spot snapped as he laid a cool rag on his brow.

 

The snow seemed to help after a half hour and a few applications of his icey coat Racer’s eyes fluttered open again.

 

“ _Hey kid_ ” Spot signed unsure if reading lips would be too much of a task. Race smiled in response and curled in on himself.

 

“Whacha doin’ ere?” He mumbled eyes half lidded.

 

“I got word that my buddy was hurtin’”

 

Race hummed a sound of understanding wincing at the slight buzz.

 

Spot signed “ _Show me._ ” Before gently laying his hand in the center of his chest Race dragged it lightly up and down across the the right side and front of his rib cage. _“One to ten?”_ He asked wagging his thumb in the air.

 

Racer stopped for a moment thinking “Six?” He croaked out his voice thick and strained “Seven.” Race let his eyes close again and was greeted by a quick smack.

 

“You stay awake or you’re gonna walk.” Spot warned.

 

“Spot the water's boilin’” Elmer called from the kitchen.

 

“Good take a mug put a tea bag in it and seep it for a few minutes. I take it with cream an’ sugar if ya got it.” Spot called back ignoring the offended sounds echoing in the kitchen, he smoothed the boys hair smiling feeling his temperature had indeed dropped a bit “ _We can fix this._ ” Spot signed and spoke at the same time grateful for the smile Race offered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think good bad or indifferent! Talk to me about sign language, or the 19th century, or just tell me something about how good of a boy your dog is!


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get up. I’ve been working 7 days a week and it’s slowly crushing my soul. 
> 
> TW non explicit past sexual abuse is in between ******* don’t read it if you don’t want to! Stay safe angels! 
> 
> I’m really unhappy with this chapter but im Sending it out there anyway

Every minute that ticked by felt like an hour as they waited for the nurse to arrive. The boys sat vigil as Spot held onto Racer fighting a losing battle to keep him conscious. Every few minutes his eyes would flutter open only to shut back down again after a few complaints about being cold. After his fever had broken Spot took care in easing him out of his sweat soaked night shirt and into the clean one that JoJo had stolen from Finch. The only sounds that filled the room were the garbled breaths from Racer and the ever faithful ticking of the grandfather clock. Katherine had offered to stay awake with him while the others headed back to bed but that was quickly dismissed by all five boys. They sat in companionable silence, Elmer Albert and JoJo had squeezed into an oversized chair as Jack and Katherine held onto one another on the floor. Race was spread out across the couch on his left side with Spot on the end acting as his favorite pillow, as he worried at a single curl. They all felt years older when the morning bell finally had rung out in the city and the lodging house groaned to life as dozens of sleepy boys made there way from their beds to start their day. Spot absentmindedly covered Racer’s ear so the sounds of the house wouldn’t bother him.  
  
There was a loud thud at the top of the stairs as Finch cried out “Jorgelienooo!” holding the final two syllables so they bounced through the house.  
  
JoJo glanced around the room checking no one was upset by this, before crossing the silent room to the foot of the stairs “Down here. Race ain’t feelin’ so good,” he whispered up to his boyfriend.  
  
Finch flushed a bit coming down a few steps dressed from the waist down “Sorry, is he alright,?” he asked trying to peek into the living room.  
  
“Spot says he’ll be fine just a bad night, Al woke me up. What do you need?” JoJo scratched the back of his head and let out a yawn.  
  
”I can’t find my shirt, the green one with the buttons?”  
  
“Oh yeah Race is usin’ it just borrow one a mine.”

 

Finch let out a whine of protest.

 

“Mush and Blink share all the time. There’s a mostly clean one under my bed.”

 

“Mush and Blink don’t know whose is whose. Wait why we whisperin’ if it’s Race?”  
  
Before JoJo could respond Spot called out effectively cutting him off, “Jo, grab your boy Race wants him.” Both boys ran down the steps and sure enough Race was laying half awake slowly but deliberately plucking at his shirt and tapping out Finch’s name-sign as Spot praised him profusely. 

  
Finch knelt down next to him with a “Heya pal,” his eyes darted to JoJo, this was more than ‘ain’t feelin’ so good’ and they all knew it.

 

Racer tried to speak but all that came out was sharp puffs of air. His eyes were unfocused and clouded but he was still fighting to communicate. The same signs were repeated in a loop “ _Finch_ ” then he’d tap the thumb of the limp number five to his chest working up towards his chin.

 

“What’s he sayin’?” Finch asked taking Racer’s quiet hand letting the other weakly carry out its motions.  
  
“‘Finch’ is the first I don’t know the other one I think that’s sort of the sign for ‘fine’.” Spot rubbed Racer’s arm trying to quiet him with a “ _Yeah buddy Finch is okay_.”

 

Racer’s signs became more deliberate as he fought to speak as well. He breathed out the unintelligible words as his fingers curled in further and further losing strength. After a few loops of his signs he became more and more agitated that no one seemed to pick up on what he was warning of. _“Finch’s mother”_ why couldn’t these idiots understand he needs to hide.  

 

“Just tell him you know.” Spot said quickly showing Finch the signs, he mimicked them, calming Race immediately.  
  
“Kid I have to get ready for _work_ okay?” He looked to Spot who showed him the sign for work “You relax, I’ll see you tonight yeah?” Racer’s eyes rolled back and were closed again by the time Finch had finished his sentence but he couldn’t bring himself to rise from beside him.

 

“Alright, we can’t all sit around mopin’ get a move on.” Jack said ushering the boys out of the parlour leaving Spot, Elmer and Katherine behind.

 

Finch lingered in the doorway a moment longer watching as Spot kept watch. He quietly thanked God that it wasn’t JoJo in his lap tinged blue.

 

As he watched there was a knock at the door. Spot moved to get it but noticed the boy still in the archway “Grab that would ya?”

 

Jack stopped dead in his tracks at the top of the stairs he turned to stop it but it was too late Finch had already swung the door open revealing his own snow coated mother.

 

“Good morning, I’m here to see--” Miss Bessie’s face blanched “Patrick?”

 

“Shit.” Finch immediately slammed the door and bolted up the stairs and into the house. Jack pushed passed him as he ran down the stairs for damage control. Miss Bessie threw open the door and started up the steps calling out his name as he ran only to be intercepted by Jack leaning against the wall effectively blocking the staircase.

 

“Mornin’ miss.” He smiled eyes darting to Katherine wondering how all of them could have made the same oversight. She tried to push passed him calling after her son but Jack refused to be moved with a “Sorry,  it’s boys only upstairs, whole place could be shut down if I let you up.”

 

“I don’t care that’s my son! That’s my boy!” She cried fighting to get passed.

 

“Who Fred? Nah he’s just shy you called him what? Patrick? We ain’t got no one by that name in the house.”

 

“I know who I saw!” She cried, yelling up the stairs passed him “Patrick! Patch, baby please! It’s mommy!”

 

“Ma’am we ain’t got no Patrick’s or Patch’s an’ we got a lot a weird names but we do gots a Racetrack an after you fix him I’ll let you get a good look at alla us deal? We even brought him down for ya.” A series of choked coughs from the parlour broke both their attention but after a moment she persisted to attempt to muscle her way up. Jack looked up to see Finch watching from over the third floor banister. He shook his head as Racer’s coughs echoed again followed by Spot’s panicked words of reassurances and resigned himself to coming down.

 

Taking a breath to steady himself Finch slowly came down with JoJo trailing behind, her and Jack were still wrestling when he let out a quiet “Hi mama.”

 

Jack stepped aside and let her pass as she rushed the boy and engulfed him in a hug pressing kisses to his hair his face everywhere she could reach. JoJo stepped back when he saw Finch relax into the embrace and let out a soft sob along with another “hi mama”.

 

She cooed at him smoothing and fixing everything she could get her hands on as tears streamed down her face. She held him out at arms length assessing him noting a few new scars, more than a few inches taller, but still her boy. She asked a million questions in one breath only satisfied when Finch promised to tell her everything. She pulled him back in for another hug as his cheeks turned pink at the fuss.

 

Spot cleared his throat at the bottom of the steps he put on his most innocent newsie voice and cleared his throat again “Ma’am? I hate to break this up but would you mind?” He trailed off gesturing to Race on the couch. Her head snapped up as she remembered why she was there in the first place. Taking Finch by the hand refusing to let go they headed for Racer. At the first glance of him, she pulled her lips in and closed her eyes as she sent up a quick silent prayer before ordering Finch to sit on the couch and setting to her work.

 

The room buzzed with her onslaught of questions and quick answers from Spot as her hands flew around the boy checking his vitals, poking and prodding then finally pressing her stethoscope to his chest. “Sit him up for me” she ordered keeping the stethoscope to the center of his chest. Spot and Finch quickly obliged ignoring the soft whines of disapproval from Race. After a minute of him being upright her face relaxed as she murmured soothing words of praise to the barely conscious boy. She took to rubbing at his chest and gently bringing him back into this world.

 

After some pats and shakes Racer’s eyes opened back up with a moan before closing them back down a thump on the back snapping them open again even if it was only to glare at Spot.

 

“There’s my sweet boy!” She praised seeing his eyes open and somewhat alert.

 

“Ger off me,” Racer mumbled pushing the cool metal from his bare chest.

 

“Shush baby shh let me listen. Can you please take some nice big breaths for me?” She asked rubbing her knuckles up his chest, their made up sign for the common request. Racer winced as he tried his best to comply she ran the stethoscope from the farthest corner of his ribcage inching her way closer and closer to the center of his chest “One more baby?” Her face was unreadable as she listened to his shrunken lung after a moment she paused and crossed herself sending up a silent prayer of thanks.

 

Spot took up the job of threading his fingers through Racer’s sweat matted curls as he scrutinized the nurses care. “Can you fix him?” Spot asked his voice cracking with exhaustion.

 

She looked up from her work, the technical answer on the tip of her tongue when she noticed all the eyes that gazed back at her belonged to children. Children who were forced to grow up far too soon. Babies who were trying their best to navigate the real world. “Do you have an adult here that I can speak with? Who runs the house?”

 

“I do.” Jack said from the doorway standing a little taller with his chest puffed out.

 

She pressed her lips together and shook her head with a gentle, “Baby, no.”

 

Jack deflated a bit and Katherine squeezed his hand. “Mister Kloppman does, he’ll be in ‘round six.” Jack offered watching as she glanced at the clock that read 5:35am “Six at night.”  
  
“Do you have a mama, like a house mother, or a cook or anyone I can speak with now, anyone who takes care of you?”  
  
“We gots a Katherine.” Elmer offered gesturing at the girl who looked impossibly younger in her nightgown.

 

Racer buried his face in the crook of Spot’s neck deliriously blowing a raspberry on it before being pushed off and immediately settling back in. “Just tell us what wrong with him,” Spot demanded, growing impatient.  

 

Nurse Bessie closed her eyes for a moment to think and decided to break it down for Spot as gently as she could. “Sean remember when I brought in marshmallows and showed you the air pockets inside and how they were like lungs?” She paused waiting for his nod “Well there’s fluid pressing on the outside of his right lung, and its squeezing it and not letting those marshmallow air pockets fill up like they should. So it’s squished and small, right now he’s only using his left one and it's not enough.”

 

“Is that why he keeps going to sleep?” Elmer piped up as Spot took in the information.

 

She closed her eyes inhaling once through her nose formulating how to soften the information “Yes, well that and because when he was on his side like that, there was pressure on his heart making it work too slow to keep him awake.”

 

“So what do we do?” Spot asked keeping a tight hold on Racer who was far more concerned with plucking fuzz off of Spot’s shirt than any medical conversations happening.

 

Miss Bessie went rifling through her large bag checking her supplies and said “I can get rid of it. It’s common, but unpleasant.” She quickly explained what would happen in that she would place a needle into the space around his lung and each breath he took would help remove the “yuck” that surrounded it. She made a motion to take Racer back by himself when Spot’s grip only tightened around him.

 

“Can I stay with him?” Spot asked pleadingly as he clutched onto the boy who did not seem to care or even be aware of much in the room.

 

She stood carding her fingers through Spot’s hair once before cupping his cheek. “Why don’t you stay out here with your family?” She tried slowly piecing together their dynamics

 

Spot rolled his eyes. “They ain’t my family, they’s just some assholes who ruin my life every other week.”

 

“Sounds like family to me.” Finch teased trying to break the tension, he suddenly became very interested in his shoes when he noticed how his mother's face fell.

 

“Just stay out here baby there are just some things children shouldn’t see.”

 

“With all due respect miss I ain’t been a child in a very long time. None of us have.”

 

Racer couldn’t understand what was happening not that he tried. They were all talking about him, he couldn’t be sure of what was said or what was being decided to do with him but Spot was there. Spottie made good choices when there were too many people talking. Spottie always got his order just right even if he was lost in the packed delis. He always seemed to know when he wanted to deviate from his normal sandwich and try something new. Loud had taken on a new meaning for him, visual noise was sometimes just as disorienting as auditory noise. When words failed and it was too hard to sign those were the times he was most thankful for Spot and his mind reading skills.

 

The nurse shook his knee to get his attention and explained something to him, she held up a long shiny stick and Spot signed to him. It was all muddled and confusing he considered asking him to write but decided against it. Spot signed to him again asking if he understood and he nodded, it was a lie but Spottie would take care of it. Just like he always did.

 

For now all he needed to know was there were strong arms carrying him into the dining room and sitting him on the bench. His shirt was removed and there was a warm cloth on his back. Spot popped up sitting on the table in front of him and after a second or two of finagling him Race’s head laid on Spot’s thigh and his arms were looped around his waist. He felt the soft familiar fingers counting down his ribs and nuzzled into Spot’s threadbare pajama pants. Spot signed a few times that he was okay and he was safe. He believed him too until he felt Spot’s ankles wrap around his waist locking him in place as the needle pierced him like a bolt of lightning.

 

Racer’s scream filled the house and brought the morning routines in the floors above him to a grinding halt as the trickle of clear yellow liquid was slowly pulled into the large syringe with each inhale. Spot patted his shoulders and rubbed at his back in a vain attempt to quiet Racer’s pleading, “Make ‘er stop, ‘ll be so good just make ‘er stop.” Spot’s hands shook uselessly, they couldn’t find the words to calm Race neither could his mind. He just held onto him attempting to ignore the bargains Racer was trying to make with him. “It hurts Spottie,” he slurred digging his nails into Spot’s back as he clung onto him “Make ‘er stop.”  
  
Spot’s eyes went blank as he stared at the mouse hole in the wall. He patted Racer’s shoulder as he ignored the nails that had to be drawing blood. He heard the splash of the sticky yellow fluid as it was pushed from the syringe into a cup and suppressed a gag. Peeking down he watched as she carefully reattached it to the port and pulled the plunger agonizingly slow causing Race to scream and beg for her to stop all over again “Ain’t you finished?” He finally snapped the sounds and smells of the room quickly becoming far too much for him to handle, ”He don’t like it.”  
  
“I hear him Sean. Tell him a few more, he’s doing good.” Bessie responded calmly enough for the three of them. She suddenly realized Spot’s anxious face and shaking hands then tacked on “You’re doing great too love.” She quickly directed her soothing murmurings to the boy who could actually hear them.

 

JoJo and Finch waited in companionable silence with a few of the other boys while the rest of them headed out with Davey taking the lead. Finch fiddled with his slingshot, the paint on the handle was worn away, now all that showed there was the well loved maple wood.

 

********

The slingshot had always been a source of comfort. His mother had given it to him the last time he had ever seen her. It was after her first night of work on the night shift. When she opened the door in the morning she was promptly greeted by Patrick wrapping himself around her skirts. He had run to her crying, begging, her to never spend the night away again. When asked what had happened he remembered he had promised to keep the truth a secret or mommy would be mad at him. The hand shaped bruises on his nine year old hips still ached as if the hands were still there. He quickly muttered something about “monsters”. Unable to tell her the only monster he had ever encountered was her husband.

 

After his sobs had subsided, ignoring her exhaustion, she escorted him to their favorite diner for a spot of breakfast. They walked home hand in hand past the toy store and she had sat him on the bench with strict orders not to peek. After a few minutes she had come back out with his fire engine red slingshot.

 

“Now Patch,” She started her face still so clear in Finch’s memories “This will protect you from any monsters that come knocking while mommy is away. You never go looking for fights, but you can always finish them. Understood?”

 

Patrick nodded and held the bright new toy grinning. “But what if I can’t win?”

 

“Well then you run away with your dignity.” She fondly smiled at him tucking back a rogue curl of inky black hair.

 

If you know you can’t win you run away. Those words echoed in him throughout the day. He heard them as he packed his thickest coat and new toy, he heard them when he stole a crisp dollar bill off of his fathers dresser, he heard them again when his mother had come by to kiss him good night for the last time. He would not be waiting to find out if the slingshot kept monsters at bay.

 

By the time she had made it home in the morning Patrick had already sold his third paper alongside the leader of the Lower Manhattan Newsboys.

 

*******

Miss Bessie finished her work giving Race one final listen and a healthy dose of morphine to allow his body to rest. After a few minutes discussion over the new medications her and Finch would be retrieving from the neighborhood pharmacist, she shooed the two off to bed while her son came to help her with the clean up.

 

Spot helped Racer out of the dining room a bruise the size of a baseball had already taken up residence on his back. Each breath stung but they were finally enough to clear his mind. Katherine quickly hopped up and ushered them both into her tiny private bedroom ignoring the protests from the pair. Elmer handed Spot a pair of spare day clothes which he stepped out to change into. Katherine  made quick work of tucking Racer into the clean sheets and propping him up on her pillows.

 

“Katie Katie Katie Kat give me a smooch,” Racer sung to her as the pain medication he had been given began taking effect. Spot tried to hide his grin as he entered the room.

 

“But Racer, Spot’s right there,” Katherine teased.

 

“Katie Katie Katie Kat give Spot a smooch,” he sang again.

She rolled her eyes and obliged to his first request, placing a feather light kiss to his forehead, feeling the heat of his fever radiate off of him. “Love you Kit,” he mumbled as his eyes became heavy.

 

She offered Spot a soft smiled and muttered “He’ll be okay.”

 

Racer’s eyes began fluttering closed only to be snapped back open by sheer will power. Spot cuddled in next to him hoping it would allow Race to get some genuine rest but he continued to fidget. “Need Elmer.” He whispered swiping his _E_ shaped hand up his cheek in Elmer’s name sign.

 

Spot quickly called for the boy who was in Katherine’s room in a second nervously twisting at his hat. “How ya feelin’ pal?” Elmer tried, thankful Race couldn’t hear the quiver in his voice. Spot translated the question he asked Race at least once a day.

 

“Better than you look,” Race puffed out before remembering why he wanted him he tried to pull himself out of the bed before Elmer, Katherine and Spot all pushed him back down in unison “I gotta get ‘im thirty cents, they’se upstairs.” Racer tried dusting the hands off him.

 

“For what?” Elmer shook his head completely bewildered before remembering their stupid bet on the bridge “Don’t worry about that, count us even okay? Just feel better.”

 

Racer grinned weakly and flopped back onto the pillows as Elmer headed out of the cramped room, “Spottie my boy it worked.”

 

“What?”

 

“My plan,” Race gestured at his chest and patted his right side fondly “Anything to get outta buyin’ him papes ain’t that right lads?” He spoke to his lungs with a grin.

 

“ _You’re an idiot._ ” Spot smiled unable to hide his amusement.

 

“That’s why you love me!”

 

 _“I certainly tolerate you_.” Spot took extra time fingerspelling the word ‘tolerate’ for him to piece together. After a confused look he scribbled it on a piece of paper the communication style seemed archaic even though it was all they used not but two months ago.

 

“I’ll take it!” Racer yelled louder than intended.

 

Spot rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation “ _Sleep. Now._ ”

His words were firm, so were his signs, but the kiss he planted on Racer’s again pink cheek was gentle.

 

Katherine excused herself from the room checking if there was anything that they needed before telling them Jack decided to stay home so both of them were just a shout away. Spot pulled back the covers and tucked himself into the bed along with Race.

 

Racer’s eyes had finally closed down when he snuggled into Spot’s chest while Spot rhythmically patted his back pulling him to sleep. It was barely more than a whisper but it was deafening to Spot when Racer mumbled out “I love you.”

 

Race lifted his head to see Spot’s reaction and was greeted with a soft kiss between the eyes.

 

Spot had said it before, he’d whispered it into his hair as he slept, between kisses with eyes closed, he could only bring himself to say it when he was sure Racer would never know. He certainly couldn’t bring himself to admit it now in. Racer had mentioned in the past he hated morphine because it made him stupid. Bareing his heart at this moment was just not a risk Spot was willing to take. Race laid his head back down and quickly drifted to sleep. The words continued to bounce in between Spot’s ears after a while he too gave into his exhaustion.

 

It could have been ten minutes or ten hours later when the door to the tiny bedroom was thrown open by Crutchie huffing and puffing as if he had just run a mile. The sound of the door woke Spot with a jolt. There were a few bruises littering his face, but they were nothing compared to the inky black and blue spots that bloomed all over his knuckles and hands.  

 

“What the hell happened to you?” Spot asked wiggling out from underneath Racer.

 

“Brooklyn happened to me.” Crutchie snapped, “Jack sent me back to be on Racer duty.” Crutchie eased himself onto the bed with a groan. He smacked Race a few times to get him to scoot over.

 

“Sorry. My boys don’ play. What were you doin’ there,” Spot asked, it was well known that if you crossed the bridge uninvited you were fair game.

 

“I wasn’ anywhere. Your fuckin’ goons is sellin’ all over from City Hall down to Maiden. One of ‘em swung at me cause I was in his spot. Like I ain’t been sellin’ there for years. Took me out at the knee. Bitch.”  Crutchie yanked a pillow from under Race and propped his foot up on it, “Jack ain’t too pleased but they says they’se there on your orders.”

 

Spot stared at him wide eyed and quickly began tugging on his shoes. “Tell me you’re kidding. How many of ‘em?”

 

Crutchie shrugged “Fifteen, twenty maybe?”

 

Spot scrubbed a hand over his face trying to collect his thoughts, “Okay um shit yeah you stay with him. Miss Bessie should be back soon just write down everything she says for him, and have her write any new rules.” He tugged at his hair thinking of anything else to add “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck um shit. Do you need anything?” Crutchie shook his head and took to rubbing the bruises on his hands. Spot paced a minute before scribbling down a note for Race “ _Be back soon._ ”

Spot bolted out of the house as fast as he could towards city hall. As he turned the corner he was greeted by no less than 60 roaring mad Manhattan kids. Jack held his crew back like a pack of wild dogs waiting for the command to strike. Jack was attempting diplomacy with Davey at his side while they talked with Hot Shot. Spot barged in between the two groups glaring at Hot Shot.

 

“Good morning Jackie, long time no see.” Spot offered half a smile before continuing “Give me five minutes with these… gentlemen and then you can have at ‘em deal?”

 

Jack’s nostrils flared he was clearly at his wits end, a quick glance at the clock tower said it wasn’t even 10:00 and already he was finished dealing with today. “Make it quick.”

 

Spot nodded in gratitude before turning on his heel at Hot Shot “What in the ever living fuck is going on here?”

 

Hot Shot squared his shoulders, “We’se making Brooklyn proud.”

 

“You fucking idiot, I AM BROOKLYN!” Spot screamed in his face advancing on him “You ain’t doin’ anyone no favors by starting a fucking turf war when my back is turned. Now you lot get outta here it ain’t where you belong.”

 

“Oh so now you’se takin’ Hatten’s side?”

 

“I’m taken Brooklyn’s side and keepin my kids safe.”  Spot lowered his voice to a growl “Head back over. Now. You don’t wanna start this.”

 

“Oh I really really do,” Hot Shot grinned back, before taking the first swing.

 

Spot stood up spitting blood from his mouth. He smirked at the crumpled form on the ground. He watched for merely a second to make sure his chest was still rising and falling before addressing his crowd of newsboys.

 

“Let this be a lesson. You go up against Brooklyn you go up against me. Now either head back across that bridge an I’ll go easy on you or anyone who is still here in, what do you say Jackie thirty seconds?” Jack nodded his agreement “Imma let these Hatten kids do what ever they want to you. You’se on their turf I ain’t got a say.”

 

He glared at them as he began counting “1...2...3…” by the time he had gotten to “5” Hot Shot had been collected off of the ground by two of his friends by “10” they had all turned and left by “20” most of them were back in neutral territory by “30” they were all well on the bridge.

 

With the threat dismissed Jack sent his boys scattering with a reminder that they wasted enough selling time.

 

“Sorry about that Jackie boy.” Spot said swiping at the blood that was still coming from his lip.

 

“Your boys hurt my boys. I need a lot more than a sorry.” Jack snapped. “What the hell is goin’ on over there?”

 

Spot paused for a second considering how to explain the war zone his beloved city had changed into, “It’s a… it’s a long story. Come on, I’ll buy you a beer an fill you in.”

 

“It ain’t even lunchtime,” Jack protested.

 

“Trust me. We both need a beer for this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think good bad or indifferent. But I’m all out of spoons and all I have left are knives so pretty please be nice. 
> 
> I’ve never had a 1900’s MacGyvered thoracentesis so if it’s wrong sorry please correct me I assume it’s similar to a spinal tap but not at all the same.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a short little fluff bit enjoy it!

“So let me get this straight,” Jack said pinching his nose trying to organize all the information he’d been bombarded with, “Hot Shot wants to take over as Brooklyn’s leader but to do that he has to off you?” Spot nodded taking another sip of his beer wincing slightly at the bitter taste. “So just throw his ass out.” Jack said offhandedly almost scoffing at the simplicity of the solution.

 

“If I could I would, but it ain’t that easy. Once you’se Brooklyn you’se always Brooklyn.”

 

“Even if he’s hurtin’ your boys?” Jack asked playing in the foam of his half full pint glass.

 

“He ain’t, that's the problem, it’s just me. So the only way I can get rid of him is if he drowns or gets arrested or… or I take him out.” Spot lamented, Jack raised an eyebrow almost egging him on to go for broke. Spot scoffed out a short laugh“I ain’t takin’ that route it’s too easy.”

 

“Suit yourself.” Jack joked trying to lighten the mood, “Seriously though try kicking him out or having your superintendent do it. If he ain’t safe for you, he ain’t safe for your boys. You gotta do what’s best for them.” Spot hummed in agreement “But this didn’t start till after Race got sick you said?” 

 

“Nah it happened when I first took over, died down for a bit but now he’s back on his bullshit since I been busy. That’s gettin’ the rest of the fellas riled up too you know?”

 

Jack nodded as the wheels turned in his head trying to come up with a proper solution “You gotta get rid of Hot Shot that’s a given, but in the meantime work him to the bone, an’ why don’t you just spend some more time with your boys, they’se  probably antsy with you being over here all the time. I know my boys got like that when I was workin’ at The World.”

 

“But Race,” Spot started before being promptly cut off.

 

“Race will be fine,”

 

“But-”

 

Jack held up a hand stopping Spot again, “I’ll watch him for you. I promise.”

 

“It’s not that,” Spot mumbled suddenly focused on squeaking his finger on the rim of his glass “What if somethin’... What if it was Katherine instead.” 

 

Jack paused a second remembering all the times he had left Race in charge of the house just so he could walk her home from work. How he planned his days around her lunch breaks and would always sketch-up something special just to see her smile. How he scribbled little Easter eggs just for her to find in each of his cartoons. How when her father found out they were going steady he offered to take back his illustrator job or his daughter. How Jack was back to hawking papes the next morning even though she had begged him to break things off with her. If it was Katherine laid up in bed fighting just to breathe he’d be right by her side every second of every day responsibilities and boroughs be damned. 

 

Jack lifted his beer to his lips taking a tentative sip, the foam clinging to his upper lip before answering. “You know anything about locks Conlon?”

 

Spot paused a moment shocked by the abrupt change in conversation “ I can pick a few why?” 

 

“Nah I mean about fixin’ em. The lock on the window above the kitchen sink has been busted for months, anyone could easily hop up on the dumpster in the ally an’ break right in after lights out.”   

 

Spot bit back a half smile before nodding, “I’ll take a look at it for you Jackie Boy.”

 

The pair finished their drinks, careful not to bring up any inter-borough business up, and parted ways with another apology from Spot on Brooklyn’s behalf before heading back to their respective jobs. It was just past noon by the time Spot made it home and finally collapsed into an armchair giving into his exhaustion. Hot Shot was nowhere to be found but a small pile of bloodied bandages abandoned on the end table told him that he had been in and left after a quick patch job. A few of the younger boys milled around taking a midday break to defrost their fingers and toes. Yet unsurprisingly no one who was in Manhattan was brave enough to immediately return home. It was well past sunset when the boys began filtering in most of them not saying much before heading to bed after a hard day of selling. The ones who were across the bridge with Hot Shot scurried into the dorms before whatever Spot had planned for them could be unleashed. Finally Hot Shot limped in, his face purple with bruises and a fat lip to tie the look together.

 

Spot looked up from the book he had been flipping through to kill time, he cleared his throat to get the boys attention,“Got a second to chat, Shot?” He asked, only it wasn’t a question. 

 

“Not with you.” He spat back, Spot raised one eyebrow, daring him to deny his request again. Spot stood and crossed the room grabbing Hot Shot by the arm and dragging him into the next room. He shoved the taller boy roughly into a chair and as Skittery ushered his small entourage of littles out of the room and up into the dorms . Hot Shot struggled a moment and finally sank into the chair pursing his lips. “Fine what do you want.”

 

“What do you think I want?” Spot shot back “You crossed the line today, I know I ain’t been around much, I know I been busy but that? What you pulled? You think your little stunt would make me what? Make me hand you Brooklyn?” Spot paced the floor a moment trying to collect his thoughts they ran through his head a mile a minute. “What were you thinking?” He paused a second when Hot Shot opened and closed his mouth like a gasping fish. “You could have gotten someone killed today! Do you understand that? Not soaked, killed. Jack’s boys flipped The World on its head for a few cents! They’se nice kids but they’re not to be crossed you idiot! Do you have any idea how long it took to build a diplomatic relationship with Hatten? Do you even care?” Hot Shot opened his mouth to answer before being promptly cut off again  “No, you don’t get to fucking speak its my turn! You put my boys in danger, you don’t get to fucking speak. Not in my fucking house.” Spot bent over the boy putting his hands on both arms of the chair so he was nose to nose with Hot Shot, he dropped his voice to a flat whisper, “If you put another toe out of line in my borough I can promise you it will be the last thing you ever fucking do. Do I make myself clear?” 

 

“Crystal,” Hot Shot responded through gritted teeth glaring up at his leader. 

 

Spot flashed a quick grin, and patted Hot Shot firmly on his heavily bruised cheek making him wince, “Good, I’m glad we see eye to eye on this. Now since you’re so hell bent on attempting to lead, figure out how to handle an early lights out.” Spot stuck his head out the door and called through the house “Lights out in twenty minutes!” This was met with a series of groans and complaints bouncing from the common rooms as the boys began collecting their things, “I expect a clean up, a headcount and a full lock down from you, in twenty minutes.” Hot Shot rose from his chair to leave the room when Spot called him back, “One more thing before I forget, Skitt has been working too hard lately too, cover his little duty tonight, an’ don’t forget those little guys tell me everything.” 

 

Hot Shot rolled his eyes and set off to do his newly acquired list of chores, Spot shadowed him throughout the house leaning against doorways, clearing his throat when he got too rough in his dealings and ensuring the jobs were completed to his liking. The littles where his favorite part to watch unfold as Hot Shot realized quite quickly threats didn’t get them into bed any faster it merely sent them into fits of tears which drew out the process. The usual lights out routine would take Spot, Itey or Skittery 15 minutes to finish the three had their own routines down to an artform, however it took nearly an hour and a half for Hot Shot to complete the same dance. Skittery was less than willing to hand over his little guys and insisted on sleeping outside of the door so he could hear any issues that arose in the middle of the night. By 10pm the house was completely shut down and Hot Shot was once again fuming mad as he tucked into bed. Spot went around doing a second sweep behind him without his notice, taking the proper headcounts, tidying up the common rooms to his liking and double checking his little guys were actually okay for the night. 

 

After a hushed word with Itey explaining that he would be gone for the night but back by sunrise, he slipped out of his private bedroom window, shimmied down the fire escape and headed for Manhattan. The walk was quick and oddly refreshing, with no snow or rain falling Spot was just surrounded in the biting winter air of the city. The lodging house was different at this hour, it was clearly past lights out for Duane Street as well but the house still had a life about it, it sometimes seemed as it was just as alive as the boys who called it home. Spot quickly found the dumpster in the ally, and with the assistance of a nearby crate, hopped up on it and slipped through the unlocked window into the pitch black kitchen. As promised Spot took a look at the lock seeing if it could be fixed only to find that it was not only perfectly intact but it had been removed completely with a screwdriver and set on the window sill. Spot bit back a smile turning over the “broken” lock in his hands.

 

“What are you doing here?” Spot turned on his heel startled by the voice only to see Albert holding a baseball bat over his shoulder. Albert flicked on the kitchen light ready to strike when he noticed it was Spot with his hands up in a pathetic show of surrender.

 

“Woah woah woah big guy I’se just here to see Race.” Spot said as realization dawned on Albert as he slowly lowered the bat, “How’s he doing anyway.”

 

Albert smiled a bit and shook his head once suddenly becoming very serious, “Didn’t no one tell you?”

 

“Tell me what?” Spot asked suddenly becoming nervous, he had only been gone for a few hours and Race was mostly fine when he left.

 

“He’s… he’s incurable.” Albert said wiping away an invisible tear, Spot stood shell shocked as he continued, “Nurse came by and confirmed everything, he’s gonna be a dumbass for the rest of his life” Albert wiped another false tear and smiled “He’s just so damn stupid.”

 

Spot seeing red shoved Albert out the the way and headed for the back bedroom, “Drop dead twice Al.” 

 

“What and look like you?” Albert called back to him closing up the window in the kitchen.

 

Spot knocked once on the bedroom door, more out of habit than anything else and was surprised when he heard a small voice telling him to come in. A strange smell Spot couldn’t quite pinpoint greeted him as he entered. Race was still awake and propped up in bed but Les was the source of the small voice. He sat at the foot of the bed with two books splayed open in front of him. One written in hebrew one was the well loved sign language dictionary that Davey had almost on permanent renew from the library. 

 

“Hey guys,” Spot signed and spoke at the same time, it always surprised him when his hands turned themselves on at the sight of Racer, a language that was forced upon the two of them was slowly becoming second nature. 

 

“Oh thank God you’re here.” Les sighed out in relief unable to keep his hands from speaking as well.

 

“What going on here kiddo?” Spot asked immediately taking his corner of the bed and wrapping Race in a quick side hug. 

 

“They’re torturing me.” Les said completely straight faced his eyes wide looking for help. Spot looked to Race for further explanation as Les overdramatically threw himself on the bed laying on top of the open books.

 

“Les here decided it would be a good idea to tell Davey he was no longer Jewish.” Racer explained ruffling the boys hair. Les argued his side in defence but with his face buried in the mattress only a few muffled sounds could be picked out. 

 

“ _ Why? _ ” Spot signed to Race.

 

“ _ No idea. _ ” Race quickly fluttered back.

 

Spot poked at Les until he got him to sit back up and explain himself, “Alright kid if you ain’t gonna be Jewish what are you gonna be instead?”

 

“Irish Catholic.” Les declared without missing a beat. Race nodded to Spot confirming that this is what he had been dealing with all day.

 

“Alright.” Spot paused, “I um I don’t know how to handle this?”

 

Racer sighed shaking his head, “Buddy we’ve been over this you don’t just get to change who you are.”

 

“But I’m sick.” Les sniffled once.

 

“What’s that have to do with anything?” Spot asked before getting a warning look from Race begging him to not start this again.

 

Les grinned pleased with the question and pointed at Race, “Well when you got sick Davey said you changed things.”

 

Race held up a hand to silence him and said “We’re not doing this again now finish your readings or Davey’s gonna have both our heads.” 

 

“What changed Les.” Spot smiled wanting to see how the kid could spin this argument.

 

Les wiggled a bit sitting “Well when you got sick Davey said your ears don’t work and that’s why we talk with our hands.”

 

“Thats right, now-.” Les cut off Racer before he could continue.

 

“And you take longer listening to people when they talk so sometimes we have to tell you what they said.”

 

“Yup, do your readings.”

 

“And you don’t like girls anymore you like boys instead.”

 

“Les! Do your readings.”

 

“Hold on a minute let the man speak.” Spot interrupted amused with his astute observation. 

 

Racer sighed and flopped onto Spot’s lap grunting out small complaints as Spot patted his shoulder carefully avoiding his back. “Well Race used to like girls like Jack and Katherine now he ain’t got no ears to listen to them yap all the time so he likes boys now.” Spot bit back a laugh as Les looked to Racer for confirmation. Racer’s ears and cheeks flushed bright red with embarrassment “Ain’t that right Race?” Les asked when he didn’t get the approval he was looking for.

 

“Yeah Race ain’t that right?” Spot joined in. Race closed his eyes for a second to ignore the teasing

 

“Would you look at the time!” Race finally spoke up “It is way past bedtime!” He stood up quickly cleaning the books and Les off the bed before ushering the little boy out of the room. 

 

Les looked over his shoulder at Spot and called back, “He’s only doing this because I’m right!”

 

Racer shut the door behind Les and Spot listened to the stairs above them creak as the boy headed up to bed for the night. Race threw himself onto the bed grumbling out something about annoying kids. 

 

Spot tapped his chin quickly to get his eyes “So is all that true?” He teased listening to Racer’s scoffs and incoherent thoughts. “You only like me because I don’t yap all the time.”

 

“You’re doin’ an awful lot of yappin’ right now.” Race grinned back snuggling into Spot.

 

“Fair enough. So how are you feeling? How’d today go?” Spot asked adjusting them both so they could be comfortable.

 

Race threw his head back in annoyance “Oh my god can you please not ask me this. Its all I got all day.”

 

“Answer it honestly just once and I won’t ask again until Monday.” Spot countered. 

 

“Wednesday?”

 

“Deal.” 

 

Race took a deep breath wincing slightly at the pain in his back before explaining, “A little sore honestly.” He lifted the back of his shirt showing off the massive bruise from where his lung was drained and the bandage that covered the hole. The bruise had grown from the size of a baseball to a soccer ball throughout the day, Spot traced his fingers over it noting where not to touch when he put his shirt back down. “My windbags are shit at their job but really I feel mostly fine. Bessie said two weeks in bed before I’m allowed to sell again. An’ Albert went off on Jesse poor little guy is terrified, he didn’t do nothin’ wrong.” Race pulled the covers up around himself holding them up for Spot to slide into as well.

 

“How can I help?” 

 

“Can we just pretend everything is back to normal?”

 

Spot cocked his head to the side not expecting this but decided to honor the request “Of course, but for how long?”

Racer played with a hole in the blanket thinking, “I don’t know? Until it is?”

 

“Absolutely.” Spot smiled tucking in next to him as Race took up his usual routine of spreading himself completely across the bed and Spot. Spot leaned down to place a kiss to Race’s forehead when he smelled the bizarre scent again he was immediately overwhelmed by the smell of garlic and sweat. “It’s you!” He declared “Dude why do you smell like a dead italian guy!” Racer laughed and pointed to a large jar filled to the brim with cloves of garlic suspended in water, he blew his breath in Spot’s face laughing as he swatted at the air trying to get rid of the stench. “Take a bath! Whats wrong with you?” Spot demanded only half serious.

 

“I already took two today, Miss Bessie’s makin’ me eat garlic five times a day. The pharmacist said I’ll stink to high heavens but it’s supposed to kill off whatever evil nasties that are making me sick. Worth a shot?” Race grinned taking a whiff of himself.

 

“Well whatever it’s doin’ I ain’t kissin you till its done.” Spot smiled shoving Race off of him. Racer immediately grabbed Spot’s face and planted a wet kiss on his lips causing him to be slapped off as they both dissolved into a pile of laughter. “You’re lucky I love you.” Spot couldn’t stop his hands fluttering out the words even as he tried to swallow them before he finished speaking.

 

Race stopped and looked him square in the eye unsure what to say. “You mean it Spottie?”

 

Spot swallowed once and brushed a curl out of Racer’s eyes, “Yeah- um- I guess I do.” His cheeks turned bright red as he looked away from Race unable to deal with the backlash if he didn’t feel the same.

 

Racer kissed Spot’s shoulder and tapped his chin to get his eyes, a motion he was all too familiar with, “Hey? I love you too.” 

 

Spot stiffened at the words and leaned forward closing the gap between them with a kiss garlic breath be damned. They broke apart for Racer to come back up for air as he let out a soft breathless chuckle into Spot’s mouth. “So…” Spot started “Two weeks of bed rest then you’re all mine again?”

 

“Two weeks of bed rest then I’m all yours forever.” Race confirmed as they both settled in for the night. Spot pinched the candle on the bed side table luxuriating in the feeling of knowing he was truly loved for the first time in years. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright sorry this took so long to get up but I think it's kinda okay? I'll be gone for a while on vacation so I'm not sure when this will get updated again! Love you all! Please bombard me with comments I thrive on external validation and I am not above begging for it!


	11. Chapter Eleven

The phrase ‘time flies when you’re having fun’ has never just applied to games of tag, or tug of war, it also applies to the schadenfreude one feels from working their enemy until their fingers bleed. Spot would never openly admit just how much he loved working Hot Shot to the bone but the joy always bubbled up inside him when he found yet another task for the boy to complete. As soon as he got back from selling the demands would come. Clean the stove, replenish the firewood, clean the bathrooms anything Spot could think of until it was time for bed. The two weeks of Racer’s sentence to bedrest was coming to a close. While time ticked on impossibly quick for Spot, the hands on the clock at Duane Street seemed to never move slower. Spot’s days were as jammed packed as possible, while books, pencils, and games of solitaire could only hold the other boys attention for so long. Regardless of how busy the days were for Spot he always cherished the calm he found in the nights. Every evening he would slip out across the bridge after lights out to spend the night in Manhattan only to return to his kingdom before sunrise.  

 

On day twelve of Racer’s sentence, Spot was once again up to his elbows in the running of Brooklyn. Even after selling all his papers his workday wasn’t over. His current task was mopping up the bloody nose of one of his littles who got a touch too scrappy with one of his friends. Spot hardly noticed when another child was tugging on the hem of his shirt.

 

“Excuse me,” Jesse interrupted, the brim of his hat sparkling with melted snow flakes, “Jack sent me a note for you.” He held out a crumpled piece of paper in his hands for the older boy to take, but his hands were already full.

 

“What's it say kid?” Spot asked. Letters were common as of late, at least once a day someone would deliver him a note from Racer. Writing letters served a duel purpose it kept Spot from worrying and gave Race an activity. Spot continued holding the cloth to the other childs nose and gently pulling his head forward.

 

“Umm,” Jesse squinted his eyes silently mouthing his way through the letters, his tongue stuck out of his mouth in concentration, when he finally pieced it together he spoke the words slowly to be sure “Racer is dead t-t-” Spot snatched the paper from his hands before he could finish.

 

Spot’s stomach dropped. “Get out.”  His voice was flat and dry while the words held no room for debate.

 

The little boy looked more confused than scared “Why?” He asked head tilting.  

 

“You ain’t supposed to cross my bridge! Get out!” He bellowed before the boy took off like a light. After quick instructions to keep pressure on his nose he dipped into an alley to read the note for himself.

 

Spot’s hands shook as he unfolded it, the realization that this might happen had been forefront in his mind for months but when he finally flipped the paper over the first thing he noticed was a drawing. A boy with curly hair and bright eyes was sitting in what seemed to be a mattress fort in the center of a bunk room, a sign was pinned to the makeshift wall that read ‘No Jacks Allowed’. The room surrounding him looked like a tornado tore it to shreds underneath the picture in blocky handwriting read “Racer is dead to me. Come get him. I quit.” Spot let his head fall back against the dumpster he sat against finally letting himself breathe. He read it again and and again but his mind would not let him understand that it was figure of speech until he saw Race alive and well even if it was in a god forsaken mattress fort.

 

Spot checked back in with his nose bleed patient before taking off like a shot. He sped past the messenger on the bridge, after brief consideration he realized apologies could wait, punching Racer square in the mouth for scaring him on the other hand, couldn’t.

 

In no time at all Spot skidded into the fourth floor bunk room. He quickly found out that the cartoon portrayed that the mess a bored Racer could cook up paled in comparison to the disaster that lay before him. Spot went unnoticed as he watched the boy continue to stack and fix his hide away. Spot waved a few times stepping over piles of blankets and other knick-knacks that belonged mostly to Race. After a minute he gave up waving and went right for jumping on the floor. The vibrations of the floorboards caught Racer’s attention and he greeted Spot with a wave from across the room.

 

“ _What in world are you doing_?” Spot signed his hands stopping in front of him in utter disbelief.

 

In a second Race threw himself onto the ground into the pile of mattresses “ _B-e-d-r-e-s-t,_ ” he spelled out his fingers moved in a way they almost looked innocent.  He paused for a second taking in Spot’s bewilderment “What else would I be doing?” Spot took a step forward to enter the fort before being stopped with a waggle of Racer’s finger, “You need the password Spottie Boy.”

 

Spot scrubbed a hand over his face obscuring his mouth as he muttered “Heaven help me,” taking a deep breath he tried, _“_ Is it: _‘let Spot in or Race is going to get his ass kicked’?”_ He cocked his eyebrow daring Racer to deny him.

 

Racer’s face fell a fraction of an inch before he plastered back on his mischievous grin “Right on the first try! Welcome!”

 

Spot quickly hopped the mattress wall, plopped down cross legged and stole a quick kiss before he could even begin to pretend to be mad at him. Their lips parted as Race punctuated the kiss with a soft “Hey.”

 

“Hey yourself,” Spot grinned leaning in for one more peck before pulling away with a soft chuckle of relief.

 

Racer pulled Spot’s face away probing at a new bruise on his jaw line, “What happened here?”

 

“Nothin’” Spot gestured vaguely around the room, “What happened here?”

 

“Jack said I could do whatever I wanted as long as I stayed in bed and behold,” He patted the mattress covered floor, “bed!”

 

Spot held his head in his hands staring into his lap in exasperation, “ _You exhaust me._ ”

 

Racer just grinned before nuzzling in and pressing a soft kiss to the bruise on Spot’s jaw, “Not as much as Hot Shot does I’m sure.”

 

“Damn right _,_ he’ll be the death of m _e, that is if you're not first_.” Spot sighed taking in the room around him, “ _come on I’ll help you clean this up before Jack throttles you._ ”

 

The clean up took far longer than expected with Racer remembering who every mattress belonged to and protesting if Spot put it on the wrong bed frame. By the time the boys began filtering in there was no sign that the room had been destroyed only hours prior.

 

The rest of the night went smoothly as Les and Davey hosted yet another sign language lesson in the bunk room while Spot disappeared to Brooklyn for a few hours. Crutchie’s leg was twinging from the long day, so for the first time he too joined in the lesson. None of them realized how far their signs had come until they watched as Crutchie put genuine effort into the handshapes that were now second nature to the rest of them. By the end of the lesson Crutchie could say “ _Do you need help? How many papers are left? Where is …”_ along with the name signs of everyone in the house, and the alphabet.  Although it wasn’t much, it was a start and far more of an effort than any of the rest of the boys put in.

 

The following two days ticked by at a snail's pace as Racer waited patiently for his release date to come. On day thirteen Nurse Bessie came by her arms laden with boxes of all of Finch’s old clothing. By the time Racer’s check up was finished and he was cleared for work, half of the littles were dressed to the nines in brand new hand-me-downs.

 

The following morning business went back to usual. With Racer tearing through the bunk rooms waking up the Manhattan crew with gripes and grumbles. Crutchie walked with him to the circulation gate practicing the signs he had learned. Race gently corrected here and there but couldn’t help but grin at the prospect of having one more person in the house to truly talk to no matter how long it took.

 

When it was finally time to head off to their selling spots Racer all but sprinted for Brooklyn. After a brief argument Albert had agreed to deliver him across the water, especially after Elmer and Spot’s last encounter. They were damn near the end of the bridge when Racer all but collided with Spot.

 

After a brief exchange of good mornings and pleasantries between the three boys Spot signed to Race “ _Are you sure you’re up to this?_ ”

 

“ _I’m fine._ ” Race grinned he let his hands fall when he noticed Spot’s hands twitch again to speak he tacked on “ _I promise._ ”

 

Spot lifted his hands to respond when Albert interrupted, “Can you at least talk when I’m still here, I don’t know that shit.”

 

Spot snapped his head up at the words, fire burning in his eye. Racer followed his gaze.

 

“What the fuck did you just say?” Spot dared him to repeat himself as he began slowly advancing on the boy.

 

“I just meant…” Albert’s face quickly became as red as his hair, “Nevermind.”

 

Spot advanced a step as Albert retreated, “You said it once, say it again.”

 

“It’s fine Spot really,” Racer tried, he was sure whatever it was he didn’t want to know.

 

“I-I didn't mean it like that,” Albert quickly attempted to backtrack, as Race placed an arm around Spot’s middle holding him back.

 

Race snaked his other arm around Spot’s torso and signed “ _Please?_ ” on Spot’s chest.

 

Spot took a deep breath to tamp his anger back down before it got out of control. The arm around him grounding him “I don’t care what you meant.” His word were even and firm “Get out of here.”

 

“Sorry.” Albert mumbled to Racer as he turned and headed back to sell for the day.

 

After a few seconds to compose themselves Racer and Spot walked off to start their day, in silence but definitely not unspeaking.  

 

By noon Racer was exhausted with a mix of the cold air in his lungs, the terrible headline and the lingering pit in his stomach from his imagination running wild on whatever Albert had said. He’d been distracted chatting with Spot when a woman tapped him twice on the shoulder. He spun on his heel facing her with a fake smile.

Having picked up on him and Spot’s signing she chose to speak in long drawn out words. Her mouth forming the sounds looked like a fish gasping on the docks. “CAN---I---HAVE---A---PAPER---PLEASE” she screamed inches from Racer’s face.

 

He quickly scrubbed the spittle she had left off of his face and smiled. “Sure but it’ll cost ya a nickel.”

 

“Its a penny!” She protested not bothering to drag out her words.

 

“Usually. But I coulda sold five papes in the time it took ya to say that. A nickel or keep steppin’.” He held out his hand expectantly with the same tight lipped smile still on his face.  

 

The woman quickly grabbed her child by the hand and stormed off without a paper.

 

“ _That went well.”_ Spot signed while flicking him once on the shoulder. “ _You’re losing your touch kid_.” 

 

“No. I’m losing my patience,” Race snapped before hiking up his bag and walking away.

Spot sprinted to catch up with Race. They walked side by side in an awkward silence until something in a store window finally caught Racer’s eye.

 

They dipped into the haberdashery, with a quick flick of his fingers Race explained that he needed to pick up some sewing supplies for Buttons. The shop was small with dark oak paneled walls and a hard wood floor to match. The shelves were stuffed to bursting with scarves and socks and sweaters. The very back of the store housed all of the mens suits that Spot felt he couldn’t afford to steal a glance at.

While Race busied himself with picking out various buttons and thread, Spot ran his hand over the piles of knitwear pausing occasionally to gwauk at the price. The shopkeeper came out and greeted the two boys. He quickly began asking Race if there was anything he could get for him. Racer, being done with people for the day, waved to Spot “ _Handle him? His breath smells like eggs._ ”

 

The man grinned widely at the gestures and chuckled.

 

Spot rolled his eyes at Race before loosely translating “He’s deaf _and a dumbass_ sir. We’re just browsing.”

 

Much to their surprise the mans wrinkled hands began gracefully moving too, “ _Let me know if you boys need any help._ ”

 

Both boys went slack jawed as Racer’s face flushed bright red. After a hurried apology from Race and an explanation that the man’s daughter was deaf, the three fell into an easy conversation. The common language being the greatest icebreaker of all. After a few minutes chat the boys realized they needed to get back to work. Spot exited as Race followed close behind. He stopped dead in his tracks realizing he hadn’t paid for any of his supplies.

 

“Sorry!” He called into the back grabbing the mans attention. Race held up the handful of objects while the man tutted at his own forgetfulness.

 

“ _Thank you._ ” He signed while he counted out the buttons, “ _You don’t want to see how I handle shoplifters._ ”

 

Racer thanked the man and waved goodbye with a grin. Spot was waiting on the stoop of the shop bouncing impatiently.  

 

By dinner time came Race had decided to crash in Brooklyn for the night. He and Itey sat on the floor playing a game of jacks as Spot handled the head counts for the evening. He loved watching Spot work, being in charge of hundreds of boys was when Spot was at his best. Race quickly scooped up four jacks and went to pass the ball to Itey. He quickly noticed Spot and Hot Shot standing toe to toe in the doorway yelling about something.

 

Itey followed his eyes having tuned out the comotion “See you’ve noticed the foreplay?”

 

“What are they saying?” Race asked being too far away to read Hot Shot’s lips.

 

Itey listened for a second “Shot’s supposed to handle banking the fires and clean up tonight, doesn’t want to. Spot doesn’t care what he wants. Shot will throw the first punch Spot will dodge it and throw a few more and Shot will tuck tail and work.” He took a sip of his drink and gestured for the ball, “They do it every night. Bet you a nickel they’ll be swinging in under a minute.”

 

Race just stared in disbelief besides being unable to differentiate “Spot” from “Shot” he had gotten most of the words and pieced the rest together. Sure enough in a moment there was a quick flurry of fists and Hot Shot slunk off into the other room while Spot probed at his eyebrow checking for blood. He quickly crossed the room and sat down to join the game.

 

Race raised his eyebrows speaking only with his face.

 

With an almost imperceptible flick of the wrist Spot tabled the conversation with a quick “ _Later._ ” And bounced the ball.

 

In the private upstairs bedroom the two boys prepared for bed in silence. Spot peeled off his undershirt as Race stole a peek. The small bruise on his chin and now eyebrow were part of a far greater collection. The bruises varied in color and size the largest being a perfect fist shaped one right above his belly button.  Spot quickly threw on a night shirt to cover the damage.

 

“Spot-” Race began.

 

He put up a hand silencing him, “It’s fine.” His words held a certain finality that his hands couldn’t express.

 

“It’s not ‘fine’” Race said crossing the room and turning Spot to face him. “Get rid of him why is he still even here?” He could feel his anger rising as Spot moved to turn away. “Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?”

 

“I can handle it.” Spot mumbled his hands even more unsure than the words.

 

“Obviously.” Race scoffed.

 

“Just leave it.”

 

“No! He’s hurting you you idiot and you barely mentioned it! Why didn’t you tell me.”

 

Spot’s hands began to shake in exasperation or rage he wasn’t quite sure. “I can handle it.” He repeated more steadily this time.

 

“Then handle it! Kick him out, throw him in the Hudson I don’t care but don’t let him keep hurting you!”

 

“You think I haven’t tried that Racer? You don’ know nothin’ about runnin’ this place! Don’ act like you have a clue either! It ain’t easy it ain’t black an’ white an’ you’se a fuckin’ idiot if ya think it is!” Spot sat on the edge of the bed, scrubbed a hand over his face and settled himself. “ _I’m sorry. It just ain’t easy_.”

 

Race took a breath to calm himself as well before they turned their night together into an all out brawl. “Just… just talk to me.” Race said calmly he sat on the floor in front of him placing a hand on Spot’s knee.

 

“ _As long as he leaves my boys alone he stays. He’s too smart to go after anyone else. He’s in good with the superintendent_.”   

“What about another borough or hell send him to the refuge or-”

 

“ _I can’t._ Race I can’t be the reason someone ends up there. You know how it is there I just... _can’t_.” Spot’s shoulders fell as all of his carefully built walls toppled in an instant.

 

It took a minute for Race to respond, his words thought out and gentle. “ _Are you- are you scared of him_?” Race asked not willing to speak the words.

 

Spot stiffened, puffing his chest to make himself seem bigger, “I ain’t scared of nobody.”

 

Racer nodded as the wheels turned in his head. He patted Spot’s knee before speaking up. “Let me sell with him tomorrow.”

 

Spot’s head snapped up, “Hell no.”

 

“You said so yourself he won’t hurt anyone ‘sides you. Just lemme try. Anything bad happens I’ll come find you, ‘Hattens honor he said raising his right hand and crossing the fingers on his left.

 

After a few minutes argument it was clear there was no reasoning with the boy. Pleased with his win Racer settled in to Spot’s warm chest ready to put his plan into action.

 

Convincing Spot to let him sell with Hot Shot was the easy part. Convincing Hot Shot to sell with Racer thats where things became tricky. Luckily enough there were a few new recruits milling around needing to be trained.

 

The argument at the circulation gate kept on with Hot Shot making idle threats and Spot quickly squashing them.

“If you don’t take him with you, you won’t have a bed this week.” Spot smirked knowing the new kids got priority housing. He looked at the new kids wandering around in their freshly pressed shirts and clean faces.

 

Racer stood next to Spot positively beaming at his luck.

 

Hot Shot scowled at the boy before grabbing him by the sleeve with a sharp “Let’s go.”

Spot watched them disappear through the circulation gate before giving Dutchy a quick command the follow them.

 

Racer and Hot Shot walked in silence only occasionally shouting out headlines. The silence was thick and uncomfortable. It was nothing like the kind Racer had grown so used to. He began trying to engage him with simple comments about the weather only to be met with the bob of Hot Shot’s Adam’s apple. After trying- and failing- to get a single word out of the boy for over an hour he decided to go for broke.

 

“What’s a matta Shot? Cats got your tongue?” Racer grinned whacking at the brim of the other boys hat.

 

Hot Shot rolled his eyes continued without speaking.

 

“Awe come on we’se friends! Talk to me what’s got your goat?”

 

“Nothin” the answer was quick but it was still something.

 

“It don’t seem like nothin’” Racer pressed hoping for more of a reaction.

 

“I don’t take kindly to gettin’ stuck with a fairy.” He spat at the boy.

 

“Oof me either.” Racer grinned, “Just keep your pixie dust tucked in your pocket and we’ll both make it through this.” He quickly patted the other boys backside with a rolled up paper. The sharp crack across his face was well worth it. He smiled before bounding down the street calling out “You heard it here first folks ‘Newsboy Found Bludgeoned to Death for Terrible Sense of Humor!’”

 

Racer spent the remainder of the day holding Hot Shot just on the cusp of beating him senseless. From off color jokes to comments about his appearance and family, every time he would get him right on the edge Race would bound off once again. Other than a few smacks and barely missed punches he spent the day getting off relatively unharmed.

 

The day crawled by. By dinner Racer was out of papers and Hot Shot had only 3 left. With a quick explanation that he needed to buy some buttons they dipped into the wool store he and Spot had found the previous day. It took only minutes for him to pick out his small handful of buttons. Race and the shopkeeper chatted in silence while Hot Shot browsed the shelves. After the purchase and a quick thank you Race found a pair of mittens and slipped it into his bag before calling for Hot Shot that he was done.

 

The walk back to the Brooklyn Lodging was tense. The day of Race staying on Hot Shot’s frayed nerves had taken a toll on them both. It was hard work pissing someone off that much.

 

Spot hung by the door, occasionally answering what ever questions the his new recruits had come up with.  New littles were always far easier to assimilate into the group. Spot started them on a quiet game of marbles while the older kids milled about looking for a new friend or at least a companion. Spot was halfway through explaining the house rules to one of the older boys when Racer came back for the night. Spot quickly finished with a “Let Itey know if you have any questions.” Before rushing to greet the pair. Hot Shot shoved past Racer as he stuck his tongue out at Hot Shot’s back. “How’d it go?” Spot asked reliving Race of his now empty paper bag.

 

“Well enough.” He said shrugging off his coat and tossing it, blanket style, onto the heads of the little guys playing marbles. All four of them shook themselves out from under it giggling as the Race knelt to join the game pulling a cat's eye marble from his pocket. “Knuckles down gents, an’ no quitsies. ” two of the boys began to complain before Race cut them off with a “You’se Brooklyn now, no quitsies.”

 

Spot watched the game start with a slight smile as Race lost the game in the most spectacular fashion. Racer got them started on another game having lost his marble before settling to watch the next match unfold from the outside of the circle. Hot Shot stomped around the common areas glaring at the group of littles playing. “ _He seems pleased._ ” Spot signed to Race across the circle.

 

“ _Oh he is. I got a plan._ ” Race grinned pulling the stolen mittens out of his pants pocket. “ _I need maybe three more days with him and then he’ll be gone_ .” Race tossed the gloves across the circle to Spot who went wide eyed at the price of $1.50. “ _Cashmere._ ” He spelled with a grin.

 

“ _What the fuck are you playing at_?” Spot’s hands flew in furious circles before hiding the obviously stolen gloves.

 

“ _You can’t bring yourself to lock him up. So I will._ ” Spot glared at him, slack jawed, his hands unable to respond. “ _You may have a conscious Spot but I don’t_. _If they find seven dollars of stolen stuff on him he’s gone._ ” Their signs had attracted some stares so Race switched to a whisper “Just three more days please?”

 

“Absolutely not!” Spot shouted, noticing that all eyes were on him he quickly signed “ _We will talk about this later._ ”

 

The rest of the night went quietly enough. Sniper was left in charge of lights out to make the transition to sleeping in the lodging house as easy as possible for the new kids. The nightly battle between Hot Shot and Spot took place as predicted when he ordered him to handle headcounts and clean up. Tonight however the battle only ended in empty threats instead of fists. By 11pm Spot and Racer had only one inconsolable child left. The first night away from mom was always the worst. With the rest of the house in bed for the night it was just the three of them and Hot Shot on the ground floor.

 

“Shot.” Spot called across the room, “Grab us a rag please.”

 

Hot Shot grumbled but complied to the simple request. Passing a wet cloth to Race to mop up the child’s snot covered face. It was the first request of many for the night. Around midnight the living room was silent except for the little ones poorly stifled sobs. There was a loud knock at the door, Spot rose to get it but his shirt was quickly entangled with child sized fists. “Shot grab the door please.”

 

It was a simple request but it was the one that broke him. “I’m gettin’ real sick of your shit Conlon.”

 

“Scuse me?” Spot challenged, “Get the door. Please.” Racer began to stand before being pulled back to the couch by Spot. Hot Shot stood unmoving. “I said grab the goddamn door.”  

“Come on man don’t be a prat.” Racer teased trying to break some of the tension.

 

Something inside the boy snapped. It was a joke. A simple comment. But it broke him. Hot Shot launched himself over the end of the couch at Racer. Tackling him to the ground. Pinning him there by his throat, while his other hand beat his face. There was a flurry of movement. The front doors were thrown open as Spot struggled to pull Hot Shot off of Race.

 

Racer’s vision clouded as he struggled under Hot Shot’s attack. His lungs begged for air as his throat was held tight shut. Black dots quickly began crawling into the corners of his eyes. Jack, Albert and Specs rushing through the front door was the last thing he could make out before his vision went black

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so so sorry this has taken so long. I’ve had a crazy two months! I was out of the country for three weeks, started a big kid job and moved to the city so I haven’t had a minute to breathe let alone write. I’m not entirely pleased with this but I had to get it out! Let me know what you think!


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is in charge of the wrong Borough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in one month I’m on a roll!

“Spot. You’re killing him.” Jack’s words were firm as he tried to pull Spot off of Hot Shot. A swift fist to the cheek stopped Jack but only for a moment.

 

Spot latched his legs around the boys middle anchoring himself in place. Beating Hot Shot within an inch of his life. Punch after punch rained down on him. No where was safe least of all his head.

 

The little one they were calming down shrieked in horror before running out into the night. So much for his new job.

 

The noise of the tussle had awoken only a few of the older boys. Itey and Bumlet’s pulled at Spot’s shoulders only to be smacked off to return to his work. Hot Shot hadn’t even twitched in the last minute of the fight. If it could even be classified as a fight. It was a bludgeoning.

 

It took Jack, Specs, Bumlets and Itey to finally pry Spot off of him. All the while Albert took to attempting to rouse Racer. A split cheek and the thumb sized bruise that had already begun to bloom in the center of his throat was nothing compared to the bruises on the boy who inflicted it. After a few gentle pats to the face he came to glancing around in confusion.

 

It wasn’t until they had pulled Spot off could they truly see the damage. Hot Shot’s jaw sat at an awkward angle, his nose was permanently turned up like a pig. The rest of his face was unrecognizable. Specs began assessing the damage with Bumlets.

 

Spot was dragged from the room. His eyes were opened though they had clouded over with rage. Itey had forcibly shoved him into an armchair across the house.

 

“What were you thinking?” Itey demanded.

 

Spot shook his head like a wet dog. Trying to clear his fogged vision. “Where’s Race?”

 

“He’s fine.” Itey snipped “what was that about?”

 

Spot thrashed against Itey who held him in place. “Where is Race?” he growled trying to push the boy off of him.

 

While Itey attempted to reason with the wild animal Spot had become, Jack took control of the other room.

 

Jack tugged at his hair trying to piece together how to handle the situation. “Specs?” He asked not knowing how to word the question.

 

“He’s alive.” Specs called out the answer. He had begun taking inventory of the boy the second they dragged Spot away.  

 

“Thank fuck.” Jack sighed in relief, a dead body was the last thing any of them needed. “Uh- how- how bad is it?”

 

Specs paused a minute making a mental list. “Busted nose that for damn sure, his jaw…” he stopped for a second running his fingers along it “Definitely dislocated maybe broke? It’d take a hell of a swing to do that though.” Just then Spot yelled out obscenities breaking Specs’ train of thought. “Then again it’s Conlon who did it so... maybe? He needs way more clean up than any of us can do.”

 

“Okay thats not ideal.” Jack scratched at the back of his head in thought “Al, hows our boy?”

 

Albert was helping Racer sit up as he massaged at his throat still making a slight whistling sound with each breath. “Way better than him.” Albert joked pointing at Hot Shot. Jack shot him a furious look, “Right- read the room- he’s-uh-he’s good.” He turned to face Racer “You’re good right?”

 

“Aces.” Racer muttered and held up a lack luster thumbs up.

 

Being so far out of his jurisdiction Jack peeked into the other room where Spot was still clearly in no state to handle the situation he had created, with a level head. Jack racked his brain coming up with a plan. If he hadn’t known of Hot Shot’s proclivity for stirring the shit pot he would have felt worse for his game plan. “I need two of you to take him ‘cross the river.” Jack finally spoke up.

 

“We’se bringin’ him home with us?” Albert asked

 

Jack glared at the boy. “No you idiot. I need two a you to take him to Foundlin’s.” He became annoyed when no one seemed to know what he was talking about. “There’s a kids hospital, East 68th? 69th? Sixty somethinth! But its east.”

 

“Ain’t that the one you always tell us to keep clear of that boss?” Specs spoke up as his patient groaned back into a semblance of consciousness under his gentle hands.

 

“Yeah- yeah it is. But this is different.”

 

“How?” Bumlet’s asked, his voice filled with more confusion than anything.

 

“They’se gonna take good care o’ him. For free and they’se real good about findin’ kids new homes.” Jack puzzled his way through the proper wording of it. “He just, it ain’t good for him to be here.” He gestured to the boys bloodied face “An’ if any one finds out Spottie Boy did this, well, it’s gonna be worse than the refuge for ‘im”

 

“Spot ain’t going to no refuge.” Racer chimed in, “Where we going?”

 

Jack sighed, “You ain’t going nowhere but home.”

 

“But-”

 

“No buts. It’s a damn near three hours walk without luggin’ him along. And you ain’t up for that.” Racer mumbled out a disagreement but didn’t press the issue any further. Jack did a quick inventory of the crew in front of him. Itey was slowly succeeding at talking Spot down. Specs and Bumlets were tending to Hot Shot’s injuries while he made garbled noises through a _maybe_ broken jaw and nose. “Albert you and Race head home. It’s closed up for the night just get ‘em all out the door come morning. Davey an Les are with their folks, Finch is on little detail, and make sure Ike gets somethin’ to eat in the morning. He’s getting too skinny.”

 

Albert nodded while Race scoffed.

 

“And Race you’re sellin’ at home this week. Consider yourself uh- grounded.” Jack ignored his mini temper tantrum and snapped his fingers thinking “Specs and- sorry didn’t catch your name-”

 

“Bumlets.”

 

“That’s a new one. Specs and Bumlets you two drag him with me to Foundlings.”

 

“I still don’t understand why we’se going all that way.” Bumlets asked wishing he had stayed in his warm bed.

 

“Because there ain’t no way that they’re gonna put together that he’s from Brooklyn if we drag him 3 hours north. They likes keeping orphans there. Ones who ain’t good at taking care of themselves. Worse case scenario he lives there till he’s 21. Three hots and a cot. Best case they find someone who wants a 14 year old farm hand in Minnesota and he gets to live with a nice family for the rest of his days.” Jack explained, sugar coating the details of the baby trains a little more than he usually would when asked about them. “It keeps Spot’s name clear, gets him a place to live an’ he stops stirring up trouble here.” He ticked off on his fingers. “Now let’s go.”

 

The Manhattan boys began following orders but Bumlets didn’t budge. “He’s sixteen.”

 

“What?” Jack snapped at him.

 

“You said they’ll find someone who wants a fourteen year old but he’s sixteen.”

 

“He’s gonna be fourteen today, same way I - same way younger sells.” Jack chewed at his thumbnail, “Look with a jaw like that he ain’t gonna be talking for a bit. We leave a nice note on him and boom he’s fourteen. Hell maybe younger.”  

 

After a little more convincing everyone was bundled up and out the door with Hot Shot slung across Jack and Bumlets shoulders.

 

Racer took one glance back at Spot who had finally burned out and was now limp in the chair. His face was beet red as Itey crouched on the floor in front of him. “ _I’m so sorry,_ ” was all Race could think to sign before going out into the night.

 

Jack lead his group to Foundling’s hospital. Dipping into alleyways and dark corners to avoid being seen occupied most of the walk. Hot Shot regained consciousness almost as soon as they left the house. No one could make out the words the boy attempted to speak so after a few tries he stayed silent and pliable. Nothing like the boisterous Hot Shot Bumlets had known forever. Even somewhat awake, he was still in no shape to walk himself. The three took turns slinging his arms over their shoulders and dragging him along as he attempted to make feeble steps. He occasionally slipped back under. From blood loss or pain no one was sure.

 

“They’re gonna take care of you,” Specs promised. Regardless of how the situation had transpired, or who deserved the blame never mattered much to Specs. All that mattered was who was in his care at that moment.

 

A church bell rang out as they turned the corner onto East 68th Street, singing to let the world know it was 4am. Hot Shot had yet again fallen unconscious as they dragged him up the final steps of the hospital. There was a white bassinet on the stoop, filled with baby blankets.

 

“Think he’ll fit,” Bumlets mused.

 

It was a common enough sight. A bassinet to leave unwanted babies. Hell JoJo was found in one, but leaving someone by one was a different beast entirely.

 

Jack gently guided the boy to the ground before dumping the contents of the bassinet next to him. The three boys made quick work of checking his pockets for anything that might point him back to Brooklyn before covering him with all but one of the blankets. Just in case someone else had a need for it.  

 

“I’m real sorry about this kid. It’s for the best. I promise.” Jack pulled a sheet of paper out of the small sketch book he carried. Katherine had given it to him as a ‘Just Because’ gift. He tapped his charcoal stick at his mouth until his lips were black as he willed the words to come to him.

 

_‘Please take care of our brother. He is 13 and a half and had a run in with a drunk. He’s been goin’ nuts and talkin crazy. Docs say he’s de-loo-shun-al. Mama can’t afford to get keep him.’_

 

Jack rubbed at his forehead smearing coal on it as he read his work. He wished he was better at words like Katherine. She would know how to perfectly convey ‘Hey this is a pain in the ass kid and we don’t want him and we don’t want him dead so he’s your problem now.’ But now was not the time for perfect words or any words for that matter. Jack tucked the note into Hot Shot’s pocket and crossed himself as they abandoned him on the step. Even if he wasn’t Manhattan, Jack couldn’t  bring himself to tear his eyes away.

 

He had heard good things about the nice ladies who worked inside. But it was still just that, inside. Inside another institution. Just a different one. Instead of bars on the windows there were nurses at the doors. Instead of a carriage to escape on there was a train that took you far far away to a new family. Jack remembered the boy in the refuge talking about it. Three meals a day and a warm bed at night sounded like a dream but the price of belonging to someone not yourself made Jack’s skin crawl.

 

The orphan trains rolled out with preselected children on them ready to find a new family, new friends, and new work. Jack would turn down a free train to Santa Fe any day of the week if it meant he would be bound to a life of servitude. Bile rose in his throat at the mere thought of subjecting another boy it. Specs’ hand on his shoulder finally tore his attention away. He whispered out a quiet “Good luck” and turned to go.

 

The walk back downtown was quiet. Somber even. Bumlets fiddled with his coat before parting ways with the two boys by Newsies Square. “Um-” He started unsure of what protocol was “If you could not mention this to anyone? I don’ wanna see Spot getting into any shit?”

 

“Sure thing, you let us know if Spot needs anything?” Jack agreed shaking hands with the boy before saying a final goodbye. Secrets never boded well in lodging houses, they all knew by evening all the newsies of New York would have heard. It would be shouted through halls like a headline “King o’ Brooklyn Royally Ruins His Regime.”

 

Bleary eyed and starving from their damn near 12 mile walk Specs and Jack arrived at the circulation gate just before it closed for the morning. Jack shuffled through his papers the headlines blurring in front of his eyes. He quickly ticked off on his fingers counting the hours since the last time he had slept. How he’d been awake and moving for 30 hours he wasn’t quite sure but nevertheless he pressed on to sell his fifty papers.

 

Jack stumbled through the lodging house door just before dinner time. Specs had sold only enough for rent and promptly came home to bed.

 

Katherine sat at the window scribbling away at her latest piece, an empty teacup abandoned nearby, when her attention was broken by the sound of the door slamming. “Jack!” She cried out startling the boy as she rushed to greet him. “What in the heavens happened to you?” She cupped his cheek as he leaned into her warmth.

 

“Jus’ a long night Ace, I’se fine.” His voice slurring with exhaustion.

 

“Is that- is that blood?” She asked noticing the stains covering the side of his face and jacket.

 

He glanced down at his shoulder and sure enough his coat was painted in the tell tale dark brown stain. “Huh, so it is.”

 

“Jack,” She began treading lightly noticing the bruise on his cheek and the dried blood on his face. “What happened dear.” She tried for a second time.

 

“Just borough business nothin’ serious.” He lied, taking control of Brooklyn even for just a minute could still cost him way more than a stained coat.

 

“You don’t get to show up covered blood and say it’s nothing serious.”

 

Jack scootched past her and flopped onto the old beaten sofa in the parlor, leaving his coat in a pile next to him.“It’s not mine if it helps.”

 

“I’m glad of that dear.” Katherine crossed the room measuring her words. One wrong move could lead to a full fledged freeze out, “Jack you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to but I have to ask, baby are you hurt?”

 

“Nah just a little tired. Sit with me?” He asked holding his trunk off the couch for her to scoot in.

 

She sighed in relief as he laid his head in her lap. She began tracing his features as he drifted off to sleep. He always looked so much younger when he slept, aside from the bags under his eyes that were so dark they could pass as shiners. Although she wasn’t sure that they weren’t. She could hold him for hours given the chance, weeks even. Her impossible boy. He stayed perfectly still for hours as Katherine sat and kept watch. Katherine understood that Jack letting his guard down especially inside was no easy feat so she did not take her sentinel job lightly. Gently shushing the boys as they returned home to not disturb him was easy. Getting them to follow quiet orders, not so much.  

 

Everyone knew when Racer returned home. He and Elmer came running through the door out of breath and overflowing with giggles. He hadn’t even began to rehash their mishap with the fruit cart man a block away before Katherine shushed them waving them over.

 

“What’s up dollface?” Race whispered realizing Jack was passed out in her lap.

 

“Can you handle the house? Just let him rest, poor dear is exhausted.” She asked as she continued to gently caress Jack’s face. Race nodded eagerly, “Thank you just keep it down maybe?”

 

“Anything for you Katie Kat.”

 

“Katherine.” She corrected with a smile, he was the only one who would twist her name into as many different variations he could think of.

 

“Whatever you say Kitty Girl.” He took her hand kissed it once and disappeared into the house shutting the parlor doors behind him. “Gentlemen!” She heard his screams ring out through the house and gently covered Jack’s ears, “Tonight you’re all mine!”

The evening runnings almost always went smoothly in Manhattan. There were a few jobs that caused some squabbles but none of them were ever considered “bad”.  By half past eight Race began making his rounds to make sure all the bases were covered. With both Jack and Specs down for the count Race created his own hierarchy.

 

Racer skipped through the house finding each of his friends in their usual haunts. Davey tucked away with his books, Elmer lazing around in an armchair, Albert typically admiring himself in a mirror and Buttons.  “Buttons?” He called out breaking the boys concentration as he darned Elmer’s socks by the pantry. “You want littles or clean up tonight?”

 

“Neither,” Buttons quipped before shoving the needle back into the sock. “But I’ll take littles I guess.”

 

Race grinned and thanked him before heading off to find his next target.

 

“Charlie!” He bellowed from the staircase, waiting for Crutchie to answer his call.

 

In no time he popped his head out through the banister on the second floor. Crutchie made his way half way down before remembering he knew the sign for “ _Need help?”_

 

Racer beamed up at him “Do you want to bank the  _fire_ or  _clean up_?” He spoke taking extra care to exaggerate the signs for fire and clean up.

 

Crutchie hopped the rest of the way down the stairs. When he got to the bottom he clumsily wiggled his fingers in the sign for fire, testing it out in his hands. “ _Fire._ ” He signed before tacking on “When this place burns to the ground I wanna know it’s completely my doing.”

 

“Disturbing, I’ll take it. Just let me know before you light us up?”

 

“Will do.”

 

In an hour all the jobs were dished out and on their way to being finished, all except clean up which Racer had conceded to doing himself.

 

Crutchie had finished banking the fires and made his way to the parlor to check in with Katherine and Jack.  She shifted uncomfortably in her seat trying her best not to jostle her personal lap warmer. “You alright?” Crutchie asked noting her fidgeting.

 

“I’m fine, we’re fine.” She sighed, not daring to mention the three cups of tea she had before Jack had come home before wiggling more.

 

“How about this, you take the couch cushion and put it under his head he won’t miss ya for a minute.” Crutchie tossed said cushion across the room to her and she very carefully inched out from under her captor before dashing off to the girls washroom.

 

A moment later Racer came in with his broom and dustpan finishing up his chore for the night before flopping down next to Crutchie. He let his eyes close for just a second as the dust pan clattered to the floor. Jack startled a bit and was back asleep in a moment. Crutchie tapped Racer a few times on the shoulder getting his attention.

 

“What’s up?” Race asked pulling his legs up to sit tailor style.

 

“Nothin’ you just did well today,” Crutchie grinned, “Think you can show me how to do ‘fire’ again?” He asked wiggling his fingers again, palms facing outward instead of in.

 

Racer grinned and flipped his hands for him, “Perfect,” he praised “Now just spin them a little like this.”

 

Crutchie watched as the flames danced on his fingertips, it wasn’t just a gesture anymore this one, this one made sense. “And clean up?” He asked eager to learn more.

 

Race rubbed his hands together showing him then explaining “It’s like a broom sweeping. There you got it! And if you want to say cook you just flip it like a pancake.” He demonstrated, watching as Crutchie’s face lit up in understanding.

 

“And the spelling. Show me the spelling thing again.” He became so animated as each of the signs began making more and more sense to him.

 

Katherine peeked around the doorway seeing that the two were practically buzzing playing with each others hands. “Gentlemen?” She called out getting Crutchie’s attention, “I’m going to turn in for the night, I think he will be alright just there?” She said though it sounded more like a question.

 

“We’ll crack the window and open the curtains he’ll be fine. Night Kit.” Racer signed and spoke, more for himself than anything, before explaining the only difference between her name sign and ‘princess’ was the way the handshape pointed.

 

Neither of the two realized how much time had passed but before long Crutchie had perfected the alphabet and the names of everyone, without needing corrections.

 

“I’m gonna get some _water_ ” Crutchie said with a ‘four’ instead of a ‘w’ “Do you want some?” he asked before heading to the kitchen.

 

The bell on the grandfather clock cried out midnight startling Jack awake.

 

Racer noticed the flurry of movement before realizing there was no open window nearby, one of the many things Jack was weird about when sleeping. “Mornin’” Race called out alerting Jack of his presence before crossing the room to open the curtain and the window. “We didn’t mean to wake you.”

 

“What happened?” He demanded waking up sore and not in a bed was never a pleasant thing. Jack eyed Race as memories of the night before flooded back to him.

 

“You crashed on the couch. You can head up to bed there’s still time to sleep.” Race explained pointing at the clock.

 

“No not that, what the hell was all that about.” Jack snapped particularly grumpy.

 

“What?”

 

“What happened that sparked that mess last night I was out till 8 in the goddamn morning cleaning up Spot’s mess.” He asked rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

 

“You didn’t have to come to Brooklyn no one asked you to.” Racer snipped back growing more annoyed.

 

“You hadn’t been home in 3 days without word any word at all. You couldn’t send a note or a smoke signal or something?”

 

“Jack, it’s the middle of the night just go to sleep.” Race tried keeping his voice low, Crutchie stood in the doorway glass of water in hand listening to the commotion.

 

“No.”

 

“Al didn’t show up for a week without word and you didn’t blink an eye. You coulda just I don’t know trusted me?” Race argued trying to keep his hands busy with his broom.

 

“Trust you?” Jack barked his voice filled with venom, “That’s a laugh how can I trust you when you don’t even trust yourself?”

 

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Race grumbled growing embarrassed.

 

“It means it’s been four months Racer and I get it I do its scary its new but you can’t even cross the bridge on your own and you expect me to trust you?” Jack explained softening a bit as he woke up more.

 

“Stop it.”

 

“You’re like my little brother and I love you I do but I cant trust you on your own or with my boys! Not if you’re gonna pull a disappearing act.”

 

“Stop.” Race mumbled, he wanted to tell him how well the house was handled, how the boys were safe in bed but he couldn’t.

 

“I can’t understand what your going through but this is life and you ain’t always gonna have someone to hold your hand through it. An’ its great you have Spot really it is he’s a great kid but you know better than most that not everyone sticks around forever.”

 

“Please” Race begged shutting his eyes to tune out the words.

 

“No don’t close your eyes.” He patted at his face a few times “I just want what best for you an’ maybe being so dependant on some Brooklyn kid ain’t it”

 

“You don’t get it!” Race finally snapped, so much for a quiet night.

 

“Then make me!”

 

“I can’t!” He bellowed “I can’t! I can’t talk to you! You don’t understand how hard it is. We spend our whole lives lookin’ over our shoulders and paying attention to everything and the only way I can know what’s around me is if I spin in circles like a fucking top. So yeah I like havin’ a spare set a ears. And Goddammit Kelly I like havin’ someone I can talk to!”

 

“Talk to me!” Jack yelled back “I wouldn’t have had to put my ass on the line dragging Spot’s roadkill all over town if you’s just told me you’d be gone! Talk to me!”

 

“I cant” He repeated “You don’t know how hard it is picking out every single fucking word you say! You talk fast, you talk out the corners of your mouth and you look all over the place and you’re the closest thing I have to family and I can’t.” Race cried “I have three people who I can understand relatively easily three and one of em is ten. I’se sorry about HotShot but I ain’t sorry about nothin’ else.”

 

“You coulda asked.”

 

“There you go again with the mumblin’.” Race snapped.

 

“I said you could have asked” Jack spoke the words clearly.

 

“Wake up one day in France and ask em to all learn English. See how willing they is to do it.” Racer flashed. He took a second to calm himself before giving report how he used to. “House is clean. Buttons is on littles, Ike’s fed, dishes are done, we don’t have any first timers, Katherine was the last of the girls in bed so she locked that wing. Doors and windows is locked, stoves off. Good night.”

 

Regret washed over Jack as soon as Race headed up the stairs.

 

“That went poorly.” Crutchie commented handing Jack a glass of water.

 

“How much of that did you hear?” Jack flushed.

 

“Way more than he did. Come on have a seat.” Crutchie said patting the cushion next to him.

 

“What do I do.” Jack lamented before taking a sip from his glass.

 

“An apology would probably help. He doesn’t mean to cause trouble, trouble usually just finds him you know that better than anyone.”

 

“Yeah yeah.” Jack held his head in his hands, “I uh, I messed up real bad Crutch.”

 

“He’ll cool off.”

 

“Not with him well yeah with him too. But I accidently took over Brooklyn last night. Spot’s gonna kill me.”

 

“Shit.” Crutchie whispered. “Maybe if you make amends with his… whatever Race is, he’ll kill you gently?” They say in silence for a moment before he spoke up again. “I can’t help with your murder but it sounds to me like the other problem just wants his brother to know the basics.” Crutchie showed Jack how to spell out his name the same way Racer had shown him.

 

“So those is just letters?” Jack asked looking at the ‘ _K_ ’ shape his hand was still in. “Can you do all of them?”

 

Crutchie went through the ABC’s slowly but perfectly. Jack went rummaging for the little notepad he had. “This ain’t a problem you can color your way out of.” Crutchie reminded him.

 

“Ah but I can try. Show me those ABC’s again lemme sketch your hand. What else do you know?” Jack asked his eyes twinkling with a new idea. 

 

“Just that and names but Jack…” Crutchie began.

 

“Ain’t nobody is gonna lug around their monster book but maybe I can try somethin.” Jack pleaded. “Please Crutch take it as the last request of a dead man?”

 

Crutchie sighed dramatically and propped his leg up on the arm of the couch. His hand in a perfect “ _A_ ” shape as Jack scribbled away for a second and demanded a “ _B_ ”. It was going to be a long night.

 

 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Orphan Trains were the first form of foster care. They shipped orphaned and poor children out of big cities and into the rural midwest. They ran from 1854 until 1929 relocating the cities unwanted children.   
> New York Foundling Hospital supported this endeavor by housing the kids and sorting them out for their preselected homes. It was like ordering out of a catalog. Someone could request a 3 year old Irish boy with blue eyes and blond hair and the organization would match them with the child. 
> 
> Thank you Friend for giving me the idea to load the son of a bitch onto an orphan train!! You saved me!!
> 
> Let me know what you guys think!


	13. Not A Chapter Thirteen

Hey guys! I’m superstitious and constantly filled to the brim with catholic guilt and anxiety so I couldn’t bring myself to write a chapter 13. It’s unlucky for some reason and gives me the heebie jeebies. Have some fun signing references for this chapter instead and enjoy the rest of the story on chapter 14. Which should be posted shortly!

 

<https://people.howstuffworks.com/sign-language2.htm> the ASL alphabet if anyone wants a reference point.

 

<https://www.handspeak.com/word/search/index.php?id=1947> This is Racer’s name sign except with an “R” as the barrel

 

<https://www.handspeak.com/word/search/index.php?id=1780> Albert’s name sign

 

<https://www.handspeak.com/word/search/index.php?id=799> Crutchie’s first word

 

<https://www.handspeak.com/word/search/index.php?id=5478> Jesse’s name sign

 

<https://www.handspeak.com/word/search/index.php?id=5327> Katherine’s name sign

 

<https://www.handspeak.com/word/search/index.php?id=1998> Elmer’s name sign with an “E”

 

<https://www.handspeak.com/word/search/index.php?id=580> Les’ name sign with an “L”

 

 

<https://www.handspeak.com/word/search/index.php?id=986> Mike and Ike’s name sign just done with an M or an I

 

<https://www.handspeak.com/word/search/index.php?id=198> Finch’s name sign done with an F

 

<https://www.handspeak.com/word/search/index.php?id=1487> Newspaper

 

 

Let me know if you want me to point you in the direction of some really fantastic ASL resources or want to know how to sign any of the boys I haven’t listed here!


	14. Chapter Fourteen

It took close to three weeks for the signing reference guides to be finished. Three long weeks of Racer brushing past Jack in the hallways, only speaking to him when it was absolutely necessary. By the end of it both of them had forgotten truly what they were mad about, all they knew is they were hurt and too stubborn to admit any fault.

 

While Racer spent his time holding a grudge, Jack spent his time carefully sketching and doodling out his guides with the help of Davey who was sworn to absolute secrecy. It started as just a page on the alphabet and some names but over time morphed into so much more.

 

“Just let me finish one more page.” Jack all but begged as Katherine tried to usher him out of her room and up to bed somewhere around 2am. He sat cross legged on the floor as she perched on the edge of her bed in front of him. The mattress was thin, the blankets even thinner, nothing like the luxury she had grown up in. Yet the small room at the back of the house with its cracked plaster and paint peeling walls felt more like home than any mansion ever would.

 

“We both need sleep, you can finish that tomorrow.” She soothed trying to collect his ink and papers for him.

 

“I’m so close, just keep your hand still please?” He implored taking her soft hand in his.

 

She sighed and nodded, smiling as his hazel eyes twinkled with the small victory. He laid a featherlight kiss to her fingertips before becoming immediately engrossed in his work. As he studied her hand she studied him. The way his tongue stuck out the corner of his mouth as he concentrated, the single strand of hair that was so often out of place it deserved a name of its own. Every mark, every freckle was perfectly imperfect. His hands worked with a gentleness that seemed foreign to the rest of him. How could something as rugged and worn as his hands create something as beautiful and delicate as the art he worked at everyday?

 

She leaned over to steal a peek of the tiny character coming to life on the bottom of the page. It joined the army of others who had already been dry. Each so delicately detailed they looked as if they may pop up and begin speaking with their hands any minute. David had told him time and time again that stick figures would work as well as anything in conveying the drawings of the words. Katherine grinned remembering the argument “I ain’t drawin’ no stick figures, Davey, not if ‘m slappin’ my name on it!” She knew what it translated into, “Not if it is for Race.”

 

And so his journey to make a newsboys signing book began. It started simple enough, the ABC’s and the initial chain of command name signs. Then Crutchie suggested putting in keyword, such as: _work_ , _sleep_ , and _eat_. Those were easy enough to add. Davey surveyed the work and said they should include everyday tasks like: _clean up, little care,_ and _headcount_. Adding a sheet on the day to day runnings made enough sense so that went in too. Then Katherine noted the thing that she heard asked most often in house was “Where is so-in-so?” thus a page of frequented locations was born. The book would never make anyone fluent, it would barely let any of them form a sentence. However if the signs were actually used as Jack had hoped Racer would be able to pop in and out of conversations with context clues. If even one person could say “ _Albert, Elmer church,_ ” they’d consider it a roaring success.

 

Katherine’s hand went limp as her breathing deepened. Jack snapped his head up when his model handshape had curled in. Realizing she was asleep sitting up, he gently pulled back the covers and laid her down onto the soft pillow.

 

Jack smiled, brushing a red curl off of her forehead, before carefully pulling the covers around her shoulders. He considered for a moment pressing a kiss to her forehead, just to steal one more second with her, but decided against it. She was a lady after all. Instead he settled for a whispered “I love you,” before blowing out the candles and stepping out of her room. She was right they could wait one more day.

 

A week later they were at The Sun. Jack sat fidgeting with his overly starched shirt that Katherine insisted was “Just fine.” It was one of the few quality pieces of clothing he had bought when he had worked for The World. The pay and warm office were often missed but the clothing, not so much.

 

“Ace-” He whispered, flipping his pages through his hands for the millionth time.

 

Katherine squoze his hand twice staying silent next to him. Somehow that squeeze conveyed everything he needed in an instant; _They’re going to love it. I’m right here with you. No need to worry. I love you. You look dashing._ She smiled at him in reassurance before finally speaking up. “Everything’s taken care of.” She squeezed his hand again in a gesture of _I’m right here._

 

In that moment it all clicked. All the sneaking around, all the silent conversations Race and Spot had, they weren’t just words flying through the air, they were silent promises. Unspoken promises. To learn, not only how to deal with a new way of life, but a whole new language for another person. It was more than being able to make quiet lude comment. It was a promise to stay side by side, stronger than any wedding vows or borough lines. Jack glanced down at Katherine’s hand in his and for the first time felt a pang of guilt.

 

No, not the guilt of Racer getting sick, or the guilt he felt when one of his boys went unfed. It was the guilt of having something some of his boys never could. Racer and Spot, would be able to talk with their hands for the rest of their lives, but they’d never have the privilege of holding them together. Finch and JoJo could joke and tease and play all day but they’d never feel the comfort of a soft thumb running over the backs of their hand as they waited in public. A silent _I’m right here_ was a luxury they’d never be able to afford.

 

The morning went by in a blur of schmoozing illustrators and editors, copper plates, printing presses and learning more names than Jack thought was possible. With a certain Katherine Plumber on his arm they breezed through the day of introductions and called in favors. After what seemed like weeks Jack flipped through the many copies of his drawings ready to be bound together into books. A note stapled to the top page made his stomach flip and churn as he read and reread it over and over again.

 

_Come by next Thursday 10am, Bring a resume and your portfolio._

 

Jack silently showed it to Katherine as they left the head illustrators office, it lead to another squeeze. This one was read as _I’m so proud of you_. She could stave off the excited squealing until they left her workplace.

 

David was the first one who had the privilege of flipping through the freshly bound book. Ten pages of perfectly drawn signs with the English word written under each of them. Jack bounced up and down on the balls of his feet as his friend took his time going over each page. Davey chuckled at the alphabet page, calming Jack’s anxious face with a “It’s just real nice.”

 

Jack began growing impatient wanting a pat on the head, or idle praise, or just a thumbs up, anything to say he did well. “So…” He began as David got to the last page, “What do you think?”

 

“It’s really something, he’s going to love it.” David said clapping his friend on the shoulder before opening it again.

 

“Really?” Jack grinned unable to meet his eyes. He fidgeted with a small box in his bag.

 

“Really.” David smiled, sensing Jack had something more to ask him he prompted him with a “What do you have there?”

 

Jack reddened a bit at the top of his ears. He waited a moment before pulling out a small box of pastels. A gift Katherine had been given long ago before realizing her artistic abilities began and ended with written words. “You think you could help with coloring them? Katherine said she can’t but it’ll take to long just me and-” Jack trailed off opening up the box. The small sticks were almost all broken. The image of a ten-year-old Katherine absolutely covered in the array of colors as they shattered under her too firm grip made him inexplicably happy. His mind took a wander as he imagined her looking like their future daughter, her mother's bright red hair with his hazel eyes playing in his paint sets. He shook his head the small voice in the back of his mind reminding him not to put the cart in front of the horse. “So will you help me?”  

 

Davey smiled at the offer and glanced back down at the books. “They’re perfect as is, it would just be butter on bacon.” He watched as Jack’s face fell a fraction of an inch. He backpedaled, “But I can’t have bacon and after making these I’m pretty sure you can’t afford butter. A little indulgence won’t hurt.” Davey said before taking the light blue pastel out of the box. Jack beamed before setting to work himself.  

 

Come morning Jack rushed everyone out of the bunkrooms a bit quicker than normal. It only took him Davey and Crutchie a few minutes to lay the books out on the beds. Not having enough for everyone to have their own they planned out who would most likely use them. The last one was destined for Race. Jack paused a moment before laying his best one on his pillow.

 

“You okay?” Crutchie asked noticing his hesitance.

 

There were too many what if’s running through Jack’s head to answer it. What if the signs were wrong? What if he had over stepped a boundary by making them? What if Race hated it? What if this book was the final nail in the coffin of their friendship?  “What if-” Jack began unsure which anxious thought to voice.

 

Crutchie thankfully understood “If it backfires I’ll take the fall for it. Conlon won’t hit a kid with a crutch.” Jack nodded once before flipping through the book one final time before laying it down and heading out to work.

 

It was well past dinner time when most of the boys began filing in. It was one of the warmest days they’d had all season and not one of them was willing to squander away a minute of the sunshine by hiding inside. A few of the boys had found their gifts and flipped through them appreciating the art inside while some of them spelled out curse words on their hands. You win some you lose some. When Racer made it home with Spot in tow for their weekly meeting with Davey and Les the room fell silent.

 

Racer taking no notice of it headed for the kitchen not realizing Elmer’s hands carefully spelling out “ _h-o-r-s-e s-h-i-t”_ as he passed. Les on the other hand was impossible to miss. He ran through the house screaming Racer’s name as he shot his name sign into the air like a cowboy. Colliding with the older boy Race finally realized he had tears streaming down his face.

 

Race held Les out at an arms length giving him a quick once over checking for any obvious signs he was hurt. His mouth was moving at a mile a minute and when Racer watched his hands they were going impossibly faster. He took a second before grabbing the boys wrists “Woah woah woah,” He soothed before letting go “What’s wrong little man. Slowly.” He glanced at Spot wondering if he had successfully heard any of the little ones rant.

 

“ _Book? I don’t know._ ” Spot signed wondering if that meant anything to Race.

 

He shook his head and pulled Les in for a hug. Race led them into the empty dining room before letting him speak. “They’re gonna learn and it won’t be a secret anymore.”

 

Spot shrugged neither of them understanding what had got him so worked up. “Who’s gonna learn what buddy?” Spot asked using his sleeve to wipe a stray tear off Les’ face.

 

“They’re gonna learn how to- how to sign and you won’t be my friend anymore.” With that the flood gates opened again and he threw himself face first into Racer’s shirt sobbing as Race cluelessly patted his back.

 

“ _I’ll be back._ ” Spot signed, before heading into the main room to find out who, or what, sent his little friend into such a tizzy. Walking to the living room nothing seemed too out of place except when Albert flicked his finger over his lip. His name sign and the sign for _red_ . Spot shook his head chalking the gesture up to an itch and kept on. Then Crutchie’s hands danced in the sign for _fire_ , but he remembered Race being so excited Crutchie wanting to learn he brushed that off as well. Then he saw Jack. Jack was sitting with one of his youngest kids spinning an “ _L_ ” in a circle with Davey next to him. An unnatural movement and an even more unnatural word to be spoken in the house “ _Library._ ” Spot cleared his throat confused by the bits and bobbles of signs that surrounded him. “What’re you doin’ there Kelly?” He asked alerting Jack to his presence. Davey ushered the little one away from the table unsure of how this conversation would transpire.

 

Jack eyes widened a bit before realizing he was on his own turf and ‘safe’ by most standards. Having not seen or heard from Spot since he had taken over his borough almost a month prior he had been dreading this encounter for weeks. He stood up picking the book up off the table his hands shaking a bit. “We uh we made this for Race, well for all the fellas but maybe um maybe-” Jack was never one to back down from a fight but with everything that had been going on lately his nerves were frayed beyond recognition. He stood in front of Spot as he thumbed through the book smiling as the words came to life.

 

“You did all this for Race?” Spot asked not bothering to look up.

 

“Well he already knows it all. I did it for the rest of the guys.” Jack replied, nervously scratching at the back of his head.

 

“T’s real nice Kelly, real nice.” Spot murmured ghosting his hand over the word “ _Brooklyn.”_

 

“Thanks,” Jack began before stopping again, “Look Spot, I’m real sorry. I was- I was out of line that night. I shouldn’t have. I mean with Hot Shot… I’m-”

 

Spot held up a hand stopping him in his tracks. “No sorry needed. Thank you. You did what I couldn’t. But uh I gotta save face.” Spot watched as Jack winced preparing for the blow. “Calm down I ain’t gonna hit ya. Just maybe don’t deny if my boys say I slugged ya one?” Jack nodded in agreement. Spot pocketed the book and glanced down at his shoes. Trying to ask the question that had been gnawing at him for weeks. “Have you seen him?”

 

Jack shook his head, “I haven’t. Specs went over a few days ago.” Spot raised his eyebrows silently pleading for more information. “He’s doin’ better. Specs said he seems happy. His names Michael now.”

 

“Why?” Spot asked bewildered. He was one of the few people in the world who knew HotShot’s birth name and he was sure it wasn’t Michael.

 

“He- Spot, he doesn’ remember a thing. Can barely talk, he got pretty scrambled. They said he listens well and likes to work but… He’s not all there anymore.” Jack stopped as Spot’s face fell. He could have given him the full run down that Specs had told him. How their visit was full of slurred words and lopsided smiles. How his life had been restarted thanks to Spot’s fists. Instead he turned to the bright side of it. “I mean at least ya didn’t kill him?”

 

The words were meant to lighten to mood not tighten the noose in Spot’s stomach.“I’m sorry.” Spot whispered, he wasn’t sure to who. Just an apology that needed to be sent out into the universe. He hadn’t noticed when he walked away from Jack. Just that he needed to be anywhere but there at that moment. His feet carried him through the house completely unaware of where he was going. _Find Race_ a voice echoed in his head. He stumbled numbly into the kitchen, hands prickling with sweat. But as soon as he found Race the noose tightened again. _Get away_ the voice came through clear as day.

 

Racer sat on the bench pretending to eat little Jesse. His shrieking laughter pierced through his chest. _Breathe_. The only semblance of sense spoke out to him. Spot focused on the whooshing of air in and out of his lungs as he fought his own demons back. Panic set in as he approached Race.

 

“You okay Spottie?” the boy asked noting how pale his face had become.

 

“I’m fine.” The words came out too sharp, but it was his hands that gave away the lie, for the first time in a long time they did not speak as well.

 

Racer gave him a once over before excusing him and Spot from the room. He grabbed Spot’s wrist and much to both of their surprise he lead him through the house with surprisingly little resistance. When Spot looked up from his feet he found himself standing in a washroom that was decidedly feminine. Long strands of hair stuck to the shower walls while brushes and combs littered the sinks.

 

Spot held onto the edge of the sink staring at himself in the mirror while Racer made quick work of finding a rag. He gently mopped at Spot’s forehead wiping away the sweat that began prickling there. “Wanna talk about it?” He asked quietly.

 

“About what?” Spot shot back his hands still gripping the sink. Talk about how he killed a man? About how he ruined another’s life? How he was responsible for not only his own memories but the memories of two others? How HotShot’s mother used to seek him out on rainy days to buy more papers than she ever needed? How Prospect used to hold a whole lodging house’s attention with just one word? How he personally took all that away from both of them? No he didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to think about it but there it was. The guilt. The shame. Tightening his insides, twisting his stomach until it was all he could ever feel. All he could ever think about. “M’ fine.” was all he could choke out.

 

The rag was cool against his cheek, it grounded him. Rough hands that always smelled of tobacco. A calm voice that now had a slight lisp. “I’m here to listen if you need it.”

 

“You can’t listen for shit.” Spot said hoping the teasing would ease the worry etched in Racer’s forehead. He glanced around the washroom trying to put the demons back in their cages, a problem for another time. Not here. Not now. Possibly not ever. “I thought girls were supposed to be clean?” He asked, forcing his hands to stutter out the words as well.

 

Race picked up a long strand off of the sink, “I thought so too. They shed like buffalo.” He grimaced finding another hair that somehow clung to his shirt. “We only got four I’d hate to see the Bronx. Smallsy’s got like 50 of ‘em”

 

“Just wall to wall fur.” Spot tried but the words made his body coil again. A hand on his shoulder, a slight squeeze brought him back.

 

“What can I do?” Racer asked his hand firm. For if he let up the pressure or let go there would be a thousand pieces to glue back together.

 

“Just give me a minute.” They were the most truthful words he had spoken all day. A minute to collect himself. A minute to put away his monsters. Shut the cages and lock them down tight. A minute to pray they wouldn’t escape any time soon. But then again he never knew who held the key. What words would release them back into the world. Or when they’d come back up for another visit. Racer’s grip on his shoulder relaxed as he felt Spot slowly uncoil beneath him. “I’ll meet you out there.” Spot said the silent plea for privacy laced in between the lines.

 

“Wash your face. I’ll be in the kitchen?” Race said reluctantly letting go of him completely. “Just holler if you need me.”

 

“I’m okay.” Spot tried, it was to convince himself more than anything, but a wave of the hand sent Race back into the house.

 

Ten minutes later Spot padded back into the kitchen where Racer and Les were talking about a dog they had both seen while selling.

 

“ _You good?”_ Race asked quickly without Les’ notice.

 

“ _Yeah._ ” It was quick but his hands were steady.

 

Spot nudged Race passing him the book Jack had given him previously and joined the pair on the bench. Les looked at the small pamphlet like it had personally offended him.  

 

“This is what you were all worked up over?” Race asked Les poking at his sides making him giggle. He furrowed his eyebrows before opening it.

 

Inside each of his friends looked back at him. Each of them proudly showing off their own name. Albert’s hair blazing red. Katherine’s “ _K_ ” slightly bent from when she broke her index finger when she was five years old. Crutchie ruffling his hair with his left hand because his right was occupied with the crutch. Even Elmer’s cheeky grin was captured absolutely perfectly. He continued flipping through too stunned to speak. The words jumped out at him screaming for his attention. “ _I don’t want them to learn it._ ” Les signed snapping Racer’s attention away from the page in front of him.

 

Race smiled unable to contain the joy that bubbled inside of him. He chanced a peek into the living room where sure enough he saw three different people flipping through the pages, trying out the words on their fingertips.  He watched silently fantasizing about a world in which every one signed and everyone understood. But that was just a dream. “Don’t worry kid they’se just doing it to be nice.” 

 

“What if they get good?” Les asked searching for reassurance.

 

Race crouched down leveling with Les as he sat on the bench, “I’ve known these guys longer than you’ve even been alive. If any of them get better than you an’ me I’ll eat my arms.”

 

Les mulled over the thought seriously for a few seconds before giggling at the thought, “Then you won’t be able to talk to me at all!”

 

“Tell you what, if they get that good I’ll eat their arms instead.” Race laid the book down on the table in front of him and the younger boy as they took turns admiring the craftsmanship.

 

They didn’t make it past the alphabet before Les started laughing again. Davey walked in with Jack in tow. Praying they weren’t making fun of the drawings he decided to silently ask “ _What’s so funny?_ ”

 

“Did you see what’s wrong with the ABC’s” Les squealed with delight. In that moment David regretted making him use his hands and voice if non-signers were around.

 

Jack’s face flushed red before taking the book from in front of them. “What’s wrong with them?” Jack asked frantically, always being self conscious of his work.

 

Racer spoke up for the first time. “Nothing Jackie it’s perfect. Thank you.” He shot a warning look to Les.

 

Les took the book back and pointed to the letter _D_ “Are you all blind? You don’t see that right there!”

 

“ _Stop.”_ Davey’s hands were firm and sharp.

 

“What’s wrong with it kid?” Jack asked, knowing the little one would never lie to him.

 

“You swapped the D and the F,” Les beamed with pride at his observation. In school he was rewarded with praise when he was correct, here though he earned a disappointed look from his brother.

 

Instead of accepting it Jack tugged at his own hair puzzling how to fix all the books he had already put out. Redrawing, unbinding and redoing every one of them came to the forefront of his mind. “You said they were good.” He mumbled turning to Davey

 

“It was all done before I caught it.” Davey confessed but Jack was already buzzing with nerves.

 

“I’ll fix it.” It was a nervous promise. As if that one mistake would be the final straw. The only thing standing between him and losing his brother completely.

 

“No.” Race’s words were firm, “It's perfect really. Thank you.”

 

The words relaxed Jack’s shoulders a bit.

 

Spot took the book out of Jack’s hands flipping to the offending page. He barked out a laugh having missed it himself the first run through. Jack snatched it out of his hands becoming frantic again. “Jackie Boy relax. Duck just means something different around here now.” Spot smiled making _duck’s_ bill snap a little harder than he usually would.

 

It was Racer’s turn to ease the tension. “I mean duck me, Jack you even managed to make Spottie look good. That ain’t easy.” Racer beamed flipping to the names page.

 

They teased back and forth until even Jack was once again calm over the faux pas.

 

Once the room grew silent again between fits of laughers Les finally spoke up. “Whats duck mean?” Les asked before realizing, “OH! Instead of f-” With that Davey clapped a hand over his little brothers mouth guiding him out of the room with a promise to give them some time.

 

“I’ll see if he needs a hand.” Spot said leaving Racer and Jack to talk.

 

Jack moved to follow the group when Racer’s voice pulled his attention back.  “Kelly.” It was simple enough but it was the first time Race initiated anything with him in weeks, he paused stopping dead in his tracks. Race folded his hands on his lap to keep them from speaking too. “Uh this is this is really nice thanks.” He flipped open the book again overwhelmed by the detail that went into each and every person.  
  
“Anything for you kid.” Jack smiled, carefully remembering the rules Davey had given him. Not too fast, not too slow, mouth uncovered. He stopped before wanting to kick himself for taking this long to learn human decency “Uh wait.” He waved in front of Racer’s face getting him to look up from the book. “ _Can - I -- talk-- you_ ,” he signed sloppily stumbling through the sentence. The words were foreign on his fingertips no matter how many times he had practiced them in front of Davey and mirrors.  
  
Race couldn’t contain his smile, they were perfect. It wasn’t the words that made him grin but the effort Jack put into learning them. The book was more than a dictionary it was an invitation to be unapologetically himself.     
  
“I’m sorry for what I said.” The words rushed out in a blur, slow down Kelly, he reminded himself. “But I worry about you. Hell I worry about all you guys.” He paused reading Racer’s face making sure there was no hint of misunderstanding. “I’m scared though. I’m scared of losing you all over again.” Race cocked his head at these words. “I mean I shoulda got you to the doc sooner and I’m so sorry I didn’t.”  
  
“Hold up.” Race said putting a hand in front of him. The last thing he wanted was to play the blame game song and dance all over again.  
  
“No let me finish. I’m so sorry I didn’t but we can’t change that. And we can’t let this define you and I’m scared it might be.” Jack didn’t know how to beg for his little brother to come out of the stranger that stood in front of him. The only three people who had the privilege of seeing him were currently outlining a lesson in a language he feared he would never catch up with.  
  
“What do you mean?” Race asked his hands moving in a small unsure motion, he wanted to put them back under the table, to hide his language away from the world once again.  
  
“You’re more than your ears Race. You’re smart. You’re great with the kids. You play poker better than anyone. You don’t see the world as being full of strangers you just see friends you haven’t met. Race you’re a mess, you’re funny and loud and caring and kind and you have all these wonderful things and I’m scared you’re hiding them behind your ears. Now I meant what I said about you not trusting yourself but maybe we can work that out? Together?”

 

The words stung. Not because they were mean but because they were true. He didn’t trust himself. Not to cross the bridge.  Not to sleep alone at night. Not even to walk the streets he knew better than anyone else possibly could. But the final word was the one that stuck out to him. Together. Not alone. “How?” the word came out timorously, a fear of the unknown sticking to each letter.

 

“I don’t know kid. But we’ll figure it out.” Jack smiled, his smile always held a warmth that could put even the most nervous mind at ease. “Wanna start with little duty for a week? Maybe training some new recruits?” Not alone but still in charge.

 

“Sounds good Jackie.” Race smiled unsure how sold he was on the idea. “And uh thanks again for this.” He flipped open to the page of names again, even if his friends in real life couldn’t speak to him at least the ones on the page could. “It really is nice.” He traced his own miniatures figure his “ _R_ ” shaped pistol pointed to the side. “How’d you make so many of ‘em?”

  
“Funny you ask.” Jack dove into the story of Crutchie and Davey and all of Jack’s horses and all of Jack’s men slowly put Racer’s language together again. He finished explaining that the illustrator of The Sun loved it so much that he had an interview in a few days time. “So what do you think? Mind watching the house next Thursday? And with any luck maybe after that?”

 

He wasn’t sure what made him giddy by this offer. If it was the prospect of things shifting back to a semblance of normal, or the success of his friend, or that the language that opened his world back up to him was also freeing his brother in a completely different way. The deep hole Jack had fallen into after he lost his job at The World finally had a light at the end of it and that light was The Sun.

“I’d love to Jackie.” Race smiled dreaming of his friends future.

 

“Good. Now come on we got a group a twelve year olds in there swearing up a storm that I’m pretty sure only you can appreciate.” Jack smiled clasping his little brother on the shoulder.

 

Race allowed himself to be lead into the living room, he looked around for a second before bellowing, “There’s a far easier way to say _fuck_ ,” snapping the duckbill in front of his face.

 

Spot locked eyes with Jack across the room and nodded once in a silent word of gratitude. He turned to watch as Racer commanded the room, smiling and knowing that no matter what, they’d all be okay.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay okay okay my loves! That’s that! Please let me know what you think any questions, concerns. Just scream into the void at me if you so please. I’m considering doing an epilogue so let me know if you’d be interested in reading more of this world. But truly if you made it this far to this authors note, thank you. Thank you for reading, for dealing with my insane update schedule and billions of typos, thank you thank you thank you!


	15. Epilogue

How is it possible that the simplest things are the absolute loudest? The tick tock of the clock in the head illustrators office made Jack wish he was the one who was deafened.  He could barely hear the man shuffle through the pages of his portfolio, every sound, every question was drown out by that blasted tick-tock. Jack shot a look at it. The glare that could silence a house full of newsboys did nothing to slow the unrelenting clicks.

 

“Very impressive Mister Kelly very impressive indeed,” Mister Allen praised flipping through the hundreds of sketches he had stuffed together in the envelope.

 

“Thank you sir.” Jack nodded, shifting a bit remembering Katherine chiding him to sit up straight.

 

The man flipped through the drawings, each of them another piece of his soul on display for an absolute stranger. “And may I ask who these are?” He slid the sketch of one of his fondest memories across the table. Racer had attached a rope to an old trash can lid and loaded Crutchie in it one day shortly before they found him a proper crutch. He was still just Charlie then. They both spent the day taking turns tugging the sled through the ice covered streets. At one point they had the boy so loaded with papers all that was visible was the pompom on the top of his hat. They were frozen in time, still laughing about a long forgotten joke.

 

“They’se-” He cleared his throat, “They’re my little brothers. Anthony and Charles. I’m sorry sir that shouldn’t have made it in there.” He amended reaching out to take it off of him.

 

He yanked it back, “You have a way of capturing people, catching the light within them. Do you know that Mister Kelly?” He stared him down over his glasses.

 

“I mean, I do now. You’re the expert sir.” Jack smiled, hiding behind is cocky facade had yet to fail him. His shoulders tensed imperceptibly as he prayed that was an acceptable response only loosening when the man let out a quick laugh, before all his thoughts were drowned again by the tick tock.

 

Katherine sat by the stairs twisting her latest story until her hands were stained with ink. The sluggish clock on the wall drove her to distraction. There was no way it had only been twenty minutes since she kissed him good luck. Half an hour later she heard the click of a door and some muttered “It was great seeing you again”s. Jack rounded the corner his coat hanging over one arm and his portfolio held in the other. He held that unreadable stance, the one that she absolutely hated.

 

“So…” She started as she relieved him of his envelope, “How did it go?”

 

He silently pulled on his coat, stunned.

 

“Did he like the carriage pictures? The ones where you have the snow on the horses? He’s an idiot if he didn’t, you know they’re my favorites.” She prompted praying he’d say something, anything. She was still met with silence. “What ever happened in there I will still love you and you’re a fantastic artist Jack truly you are.”

 

“I got the job.” He whispered the words feeling foreign on his lips.

 

“And I swear to you I will storm in there and give him a piece of my mind if he said-” Jack silenced her words with a kiss.

 

She pulled away first, as a smile split his face. “Katherine I got the job!” He cried as she leapt into his arms. He couldn’t contain himself holding her close to him and spinning around as their kiss dissolved into fits of giggles. Workplace and sensible behavior was forgotten for a second before they split apart.

 

Katherine wasted no time looping their arms together and prattling away at his side, “Oh I knew you’d get it love, I have to be honest I’m not even surprised.” She pulled his cheek down to her lips “I’m just so proud.” A shiver of joy rattled her whole body and she couldn’t help but jump. “I want to hear all about everything. Should we do lunch? Is it lunch time?” She glanced at the clock it that read 10:45. “Tea time it is then.”

 

“You have work.” He smiled, “We can talk later and I’ll tell you everything.”

 

“You’ll tell me now. I’m peckish, someone ate my last bun this morning.”

 

“You gave it to Romeo.” He laughed, “Ace I watched you do it!”

 

“I’m still bunless.” He grabbed her hair all pinned up on top of her head, “That one doesn’t count.”

 

“Is there any sense arguing with ya?”

 

“None at all.” She grinned tugging her shawl around her shoulders as she lead him to the nearest bakery, “So what kind of questions did he ask?”

 

Katherine buzzed around him like a bee until noon. Telling everyone they ran into about his new position at The Sun. After their extended lunch, on her orders he headed home to rest with a bag of sweets, because ‘If anyone deserves a day off it's you.’ But if he just happened to run into a few of his little guys whose faces were thinner than usual on his way home well he’d just have to share his bounty.

 

At home she was placed under a gag order about the job offer until he could tell his boys the way he wanted to. Her attempts to hide her excitement were futile. Jack puttzed about cleaning things here and there as Katherine let off little yelps of excitement. She was a kettle trying her best not to over boil.

It was past nightfall when Racer had made it home. Everyone else was happily settled in the living room playing made up games here and there by the time he tumbled in, his hair disheveled as the dreamy look of forbidden kisses twinkled in his eyes.  Jack untangled himself from Katherine crossing the room to meet him at the door.

 

It took but a glance to realize they were both on cloud nine, “How goes it Jackie boy.” Race grinned letting his hands speak as well. Signs had become more common since the book, still not widely used but the language seemed to have opened Pandora’s box, Blink wore his eyepatch less, Crutchie seemed more willing to accept help, and Finch’s constant vibrating was far more tolerated as of late.

 

“We gotta _talk_.” Jack said his hands still uncertain of the new words, as he began pulling him out of the main room. They settled in across from each other reading each others body language. “You seem… _happy_? You get any _work_ done today or just _help_ Conlon.” he teased wiggling his eyebrows.

 

His ears went pink at the tips. “Stop it. We just sold today is all, and talked a while. He’s just- I’m just happy is all.” Race explained. He couldn’t voice that there was a lightness in the air as the toxic energy HotShot left in the house was being blown away by the warm spring wind. Or that since it was no longer chokingly cold his lungs seemed to cooperate better. Just that Brooklyn had become a perfect storm of giddiness over the past few days. So what if he had an extra smile in his pocket? “What’s with you? You finally learn how to tie your own shoes?”

 

“Nah you still haven’t mastered the loopty loop yet.”

 

“You’ll get there sport. So what’s up?”

 

Jack took a breath before thinking. “It’s kinda a lot. Do you mind if we have Davey interpret?”

 

“Davey!” Race bellowed, watching as his friend startled from behind his book, “Come here! Bring your hands!”

 

After a quick proper request and swearing both David and Racer to secrecy Jack wasted no time diving into the job offer. The interview pay, the benefits, the office and the pens, my God the pens! He went on and on all his joy lifting him up into a warm cloud as it filled his little brother as well. He told him how the sketch of them playing on the sled all those years ago was the thing that sealed the deal. Race sat nodding along smiling so wide his cheeks hurt. “So I was wondering if you could maybe, ya know start taking charge before I start for real?” Jack finished with a smile.

 

“Ya really wanna trust me with this whole place Jackie?” Racer asked testing the waters, waiting for him to pull the rug out from under him.

 

Jack took a deep breath steadying himself. The lodging house had been his pride and joy for years, and to pass it to someone who needed Davey just to understand… His mouth worked faster than his brain could, “I’d trust ya with anything. But do you maybe want to pick a second? Just someone to help out when I’m not here?”

 

Racer chewed on his lip weighing his words, “You saying I can’t do it alone?”

 

Davey cringed a bit not wanting to interpret a fight but continued his work anyway.

 

“Not at all! I needed you when I started still need ya now.” It quickly dissolved into an elaborate dance over who would cave first.

 

“Anyone I want?” Racer asked, cocking his eyebrow.

“It don’t matter to me.” Jack lied, his words were firm, praying his eyes didn’t betray his doubt.  
  
“Fine. Elmer!” He called out across the room making the boys head snap up. Elmer shot him a grin behind the spitballs that were stuck up his nose. Race had been watching them for the past few minutes shove them up his nostril and shoot them at the targets he and Albert set up. He raised his eyebrows at Jack testing if he was serious as Elmer crossed the room.  
  
Jack shifted nervously, in an attempt to look accepting, “Like I said you’re in charge they’se gonna be all yours now.” Race held his eyes while he watched for him to break instead he swallowed hard and said “I trust you completely.”  
  
“As you were Elm.” Race called out, “Fine. Crutchie it is.”  
  
“Oh thank God” Jack breathed in relief, crossing himself.

 

“Charlie!” Race hollered to friend sprawled across his favorite couch.

 

Crutchie shifted to join them. Jack dove into the rundown before he even made it through the door.  “I’ll still be livin’ here I swears it, just… I can’t do this and be on the ground with you fellas an you deserve a leader.” He clapped Race on the shoulder “A proper leader.”

 

“So will ya consider being’ my second? You can say no just I can’t do it alone.” Race stopped, the wheels grinding in his head. “Wait.” He paused trying to puzzle it all out. “I don’t want ya under me?”

 

Crutchie nodded as his face fell feeling stupid for getting his hopes up. “‘S’okay.” he mumbled getting up from the table.

“Where the hell you going?” Race sputtered as he thought, “Wait, sit.”

Crutchie instantly obeyed the order settling back onto the bench as Jack silently noted the authority in Racer’s voice, he may be able to pull this off after all.

Race sat muttering to himself, his hands fidgeting in half formed thoughts before he spoke, “Jackie is there anyway we can just both have Hattan?” He finally asked as he looked up from the table.

 

“What do you mean?” Jack asked glancing over at Davey, hoping he understood.

 

“Well Crutch- Charlie has lots a strengths that I don’t? And I have a few strength that he don’t an’ together I think we can keep it above water? Maybe get JoJo in the mix too or Davey?” Race explained clapping David on the shoulder.

 

“What are you saying?”

 

“With Charlie’s ears and sparkling personality” He teased ruffling his hair, “And my dashing good looks and irresistible charm we can easily flip the script on this thing.”

 

Jack glanced between the two of them. The two boys he loved more than the world, their blonde heads full of air and hearts full of hope. Yet in that moment all he could see was the house he worked so hard to make a home crumbling to the ground. He couldn’t see their smiles or the ideas running through their heads so fast there may as well be smoke pouring from their ears. All he could see was the mangled leg that held Crutchie back from the pack. The lungs that refused to cooperate with Racer’s old lifestyle of running all over the city, the ears that would never pick up the threats that were so often around them.

 

“We run this place together? As a pair? What do you think Jackie?” Crutchie asked the hope practically dripping off his words.

 

Together. There was that damn word again. He remembered his promise. They’d figure out how to trust each other, together. Jack scratched at the back of his neck trying to figure out how to rework their plan. “I don’t know.” He started. Both of their smiles faded instantly. “I mean two leaders ain’t been done before. But I think it might be good, two heads is better than one right?”

 

They beamed again. Thank God. He’d move heaven and earth to see his boys happy. “But we still need a real chain of command, two ain’t gonna be enough. Who else you thinking” With that Jack pulled out his pad of paper as they began scribbling names of who could help with what and where.

 

“I ain’t so good at runnin’ so maybe we have Button’s deliver messages? He’s good with everyone.” Crutchie offered as Davey’s hands flew with the ideas.

 

“Nah keep Button’s and Finch on littles. Have Mush be a runner. He’s quick, always wants to get back to Blink.”

 

After a few minutes Jack decided to sit back and watch them take over bouncing ideas back and forth. Their disabilities only being mentioned as casually as the sky being blue. A small obstacle to work around but completely doable, always doable. Racer and Crutchie fed off of each other if one couldn’t do something the other stepped in seamlessly filling the gaps no thanks or explanations needed just pure a fluid teamwork.

 

The two weeks of Jack stepping back and giving them the reigns had went smoother than any one could have hoped. Spot had popped in and out more often than he had in the past only offering pointers when asked but other than that things easily fell into a routine.

 

The night before his first day Jack lounged in Katherine’s room the night started innocently enough, discussing worries of a new job, leaving his boys completely on their own for the first time in a while. Jack sat on the bed next to her winding and unwinding a curl around his finger, a he went on about his nerves and their future and everything in between.

 

“Is that brain of yours always working a mile a minute?” Katherine asked cupping his cheek.

 

“Pretty much yeah?” He nodded finally looking at her properly. A cheshire cat grin spread across her face. “What are you smiling at?”

 

“You.” She whispered, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair.

 

“I ain’t never did nothing to deserve a look like that, Miss Plumber.”

 

“You deserve every look and more” She grinned as she inched closer to him. Closing the distance between them drinking him in. The way he smelled of newspaper ink and city air. She nipped at his lower lip pulling him impossibly closer.

 

“Kath-” He pulled back breathlessly, “Whats gotten into you?”

 

“You hopefully.” She purred against his ear.

 

“Katherine!” He yelped chuckling “An’ here I was thinking you was a right lady.”

 

She closed the distance between them again shifting to sit in his lap. Jack froze solid, “Something wrong?” She asked pulling back an inch before realizing how she had thrown herself at him. She immediately clamoured off of him smoothing her skirts around her as she folded her hands in her lap. They were a sight to see. Their hair sticking up at all the wrong angles. Lips swollen with kisses and gentle bites. “I am so so sorry. I’ll just- I’ll just be go-”

 

“Kath-” Jack was so rarely at a loss for words. “”I want- I want you. I do. But-”

 

“I understand.” Katherine’s words were clipped her whole face blushing bright red.

 

“No.” Jack shook the fog from his head “No you don’t.”

 

Katherine got up from the bed, attempting to tuck her curls all in place. “I need to finish your shirts.” She mumbled as she moved to go find her iron.

 

“No Kath you don’t gotta I just… wait,” Jack went reaching for her hand as she pulled away from him.

 

“I’m sorry Jack, I just, I’m sorry.” She stuttered out, “I have to…” She trailed off picking up another one of his clean dress shirts off the floor. “I’m sorry.” She opened the door rushing out of the room face hot with embarrassment .

 

“Damn it” He cursed before chasing after her down the hall. He caught her in the living room “Damn you’re quick.” He muttered. “I’m sorry. I want you. All of you. Forever and always. When were old and wrinkly a look like you father. Just give me a chance to get it together give me a chance to marry you right an’ proper and we’ll figure out the rest!” The words came out in a blur.  

 

“Are you asking me to marry you?” Katherine asked her brows knit together in confusion, the entirety of the lodging house stopped and turned to watch what was unfolding in the tiny hallway.

 

“Get it Jackie!” A voice called out from the crowd.

 

“No!” The answer came too quick “Wait, no I ain’t not asking you to not marry me.”

 

She cocked her head slightly.

 

“Just give me time, I need a ring and a plan and a nice place to do it not in front of all these neb noses.” He raised his voice as he called out his boys who had all been inching closer to hear the news.

 

“But you want to marry me?”

 

“Pfft!” He sputtered out unable to control himself “Are you serious? How could I _not_ wanna marry you!” He took her hand and spun her in front of him “Ace you’se an angel an absolute angel. Just let me get a ring first an’ a plan an then we’ll figure out the rest. Jus’ you’se the only thing I ever been absolutely sure of in my life. Let me do it right. The way you deserve.” His eyes went wide before he began back tracking, “But-  but only if you want to I mean it’s your choice you can say no you’se your own wom-...”

 

She silenced his words with a kiss earning whoops and hollers from their onlookers, “I’d like that very much Mister Kelly.”

 

It was his turn to make the first move capturing her lips in his.

 

The house was eerily silent as Jack officially passed the reignes onto Racer and Crutchie. It was still far too early in the morning to wake the rest of the crew. The three sat in an awkward silence bouncing off any last minute questions and concerns they had. As Jack checked for the hundredth time that they were sure they could handle everything Katherine came bustling in with four sack lunches in her hands. She passed two to Crutchie and Race and one to Jack before hurrying him out the door, quieting his worries with soft reassurances that they had handled it flawlessly before.

 

Racer and Crutchie looked at each other in a dazed state. For the first time in a long time they were 100% on their own. Even when they watched the house in the past Jack was always just a few streets away and relatively easy to get a hold of. Being tucked away in The Sun he might as well have been halfway to the moon.

 

“So.” Race started, the responsibility felt crushing.

 

“So.” Crutchie replied, he didn’t know how to voice his worries so instead he opened the brown paper bag Katherine had given him. Pulling out a small glass jar he grinned, “No matter what happens we got milk!”

Race couldn’t help but smile as he opened up his lunch too.

 

The first morning went by in an absolute whirlwind. The littles buzzed with questions about the change as it became glaringly obvious that neither of them had prepared them properly. After a few brief arguments in an attempt to establish their full fledged leadership roles they had finally got their entire crew to the circulation gate only a few minutes late. Race and Buttons took care in pairing up the littles as Crutchie finished off the head counts. After a few minutes of milling around Davey nudged Race to remind him he needed to be the one to dismiss the group.

 

It took about a week to fully get settled into the routine. Racer had to cut out selling in Brooklyn except for one day a week, where Crutchie had to pick up little duty more often than he’d like. But the routine shaped itself easily enough. Spot popped in a few times a week, ASL classes continued, and Jack ever so reluctantly passed the torch completely.

 

It was a Wednesday when Jack decided to deflect the first argument to Racer instead of taking charge himself. When two of the twelve year olds got too scrappy Jack merely dragged them by their collars and plopped them on the couch in front of Race. Before he could even ask what happened the two began pleading their cases. Their mouths were too fast as their hands flew in unintelligible gestures.

 

“Hey guys?” Race asked unsure how loud his voice was, he glanced around for help before trying again. “Fellas!” He bellowed snapping them to attention, “You gotta slow it down. One at a time. What the hell happened?”  
  
Romeo instantly began again with the shouting and gestures, only stopping when Race grabbed his wrists and held them firmly in his lap.  
  
“I want to make myself perfectly clear.” The words were even and measured, “If I can’t understand what you’re saying I’m siding with him. Now what happened? Calmly.”  
  
No one in the house would ever admit it but being forced to speak slowly and clearly almost always de-escalated situations and would nine out of ten times end with a hug or a spit bound promise to not do it again.  
  
After the little ones were dismissed Crutchie hopped onto the couch where they sat.  “So what was they fussing over?”  
  
Racer rubbed at the bridge of his nose trying to deter the headache forming behind his eyes, “A girl. What else?” He answered before glancing around, “How’s everything else here?”  
  
Crutchie stretched out across the couch using his arms as a pillow, “Aces, except someone _trapped a spider_ in a cup and _that_ is where _my job ends_.”

 

Race let out a quick laugh, before swatting his friend with a rolled up newspaper, “I’m on it.”

 

The sun hadn’t risen yet as Spot furiously picked the lock on the Lower Manhattan Newsboy Lodging House. His fingers fumbled in the cool morning air as he cursed at Albert for actually fixing the lock on the kitchen window. If anyone had tried this in his kingdom they’d be dead before they could explain but the Hattan boys were thankfully less trigger happy. After a few moments of fumbling the door swung open as he let himself in. Spot wasted no time sprinting up the stairs to find his-  well to find whatever Racer was to him.

 

The sun had just begun creeping over the horizon when he made it to Racer’s bunk, he slipped his fingers into his hand silently wiggling the “ _R_ ” and calling out his name.

 

Race opened one eye expecting to see Crutchie. He was greeted with Spot’s face two inches from his and let out a piercing scream. Spot clamped a hand over his mouth and brought a finger to his lips but the damage had already been done. Half of the house was awakened by the shierk. Race glanced at some of his boys bleary eyes. “Sorry,” he muttered, “Bad dream.” the explanation satisfied his crew as they laid back down for a few more minutes of sleep.

 

Spot wasted no time climbing up into the top bunk acting as if this behavior was completely normal.

 

“ _What the fuck!_ ” Racer’s hands were sharper than usual.

 

“ _It’s opening day,_ ” Spot replied as if that explained everything. Racer pulled his covers over his head hoping to block him out a few minutes longer. Spot pulled them back just far enough that he could slip under them as well with a jump that tested the integrity of the bunk.

 

Elmer toppled out of the bottom bunk glaring at the two on the top as he stood up grumbling about turning them in if he got woken up again. It was a joke but Spot mumbled out an apology regardless.

 

“ _Come on lazy._ ” Spot signed into his hands.

 

Race pulled his hands to his chest with a grumpy, “Since when are you a morning person.” He propped his chin on Spot’s chest glowering up at him. He kissed him softly between the eyes unfurling his brow.

 

“Since I got us box seats at the Sheepshead for opening day.” Spot whispered.

 

Race shot up off the bunk cracking his head on the ceiling, “You didn’t,” he yelled out waking the rest of the room only one minute before the morning bell chimed.

 

Spot ignored the groans of the sleepy boys around him and pulled out a paper confirming their seats which was instantly snatched from his hands.

 

Racer had his morning routine of waking the bunk rooms cut out for him. He walked through his room handing out apologies on Spot’s behalf before heading around to the other rooms.

 

Les squeaked in delight when he realized Spot was in Manhattan again, he latched onto his friend chattering about all that he had missed since his last visit two days ago.

 

“You sure you can handle them?” Racer asked as he finished his rounds grabbing Crutchie’s atrophied foot and gently rotating it in a circle. They weren’t sure when it had become part of their schedule, but loosening his sleep stiffened muscles had become an unspoken part of their give and take leadership.

“Yeah, _yeah Davey_ is steppin’ in _today_.” Crutchie waved off his concerns. “I ain’t supposed to tell you this but _Spot_ told me bout the box weeks ago. And you deserve a few days off.”

 

“A few?” He asked but was quickly ignored. Racer put a hand to his chest in mock horror, “An’ you kept it from me for all this time?” He gasped, “My own brother.”

 

Crutchie beamed at his own secret keeping abilities, “Sure did!” He jolted in a bit of pain when Race began gently bending his knee.

 

“Sorry.” Race mumbled before continuing. “You’ll send a messenger if ya need me though right? Like anything goes sideways I wanna know.”

 

Crutchie nodded along in agreement as he finished stretching his calf. How Jack ever doubted Race he’d never understand, Race was every bit concerned about the his boys as Jack was.

 

Spot watched the morning unfold under their leadership and frankly it was unlike anything he had ever witnessed. In Brooklyn his boys were neat and orderly, like soldiers ready to go on command. But Manhattan could only be described as organized chaos. Everyone had a job no matter how young they were. Les for example seemed to be in charge of making sure all the younger kids had their shoes on the right feet. Where as the littlest member of their crew Jesse was given the job of making sure the lights were off in the bunk rooms. When Racer and Crutchie finally made their way down from the dorms everyone was out the door with time to spare.

 

The trip to the Sheepshead Races was far easier than anyone could have ever hoped for. Spot had spent weeks learning about the street cars, which ones they’d need to jump and for how far. He considered just walking it but the uncertainty of Racer’s ill behaved lungs was always an unpredictable factor. A crap shoot neither of them wanted to roll. A little over an hour later Race gazed up at his favorite place in the world slack jawed.

 

“ _You okay_?” Spot asked as he patted him on the shoulder.

 

He nodded slowly taking in the building, unsure how to explain he didn’t know if or when he would see this place again.

 

Spot tugged at his wrist dragging him inside no more questions asked. The smell of popcorn and peanuts immediately greeted them. But snacks could wait, they b lined for the betting ring. Spot slipped him two dollars waving him off as he balked at the amount. “ _Bet it good._ ”

 

“I can’t take this!” Race yelled calling attention to himself, “Christ were did ya even get it!”

 

Spot grinned as he put a finger to his lips shushing Race, “Remember when I said you were my cash cow? I saved the extras these goldmines brought in.” He teased tugging at Racer’s ears. “ _Bet it good.”_ Spot signed again leaving no room for argument as he pushed him into the crowd around them. Minutes later Racer weaved his way out of the crowd a single slip in his hand. Spot slung an arm around his shoulder as he shyly showed him the ticket. “You bet it all on one horse?”

 

Racer nodded slightly, praying he hadn’t screwed things up already.

 

“ _Good thinking,_ ” Spot clapped him on the shoulder, “ _Bigger payout_.” The two bobbed and weaved through the throngs of people. “ _So I got another surprise for you._ ”

 

“ _More than box seats?_ ”

 

Spot smirked as he nodded and waved for him to follow. He weaved them through the crowds until the were further into the building than either of them had ever explored before. Spot stopped them outside of what seemed to be an office door before knocking. A young woman opened the door as Spot took care covering his mouth to hide his words from Racer.

 

The office held an opulent comfort that neither of them were, or ever could be dressed for. From the rich red carpet to the gold leafed crowned moulding Racer struggled making heads or tails of how they wound up in such a place. Katherine could seamlessly fit in maybe even Jack but them? Then it clicked. “ _What did Kath do?_ ”

 

“ _She called a friend._ ” As he answered Mister James Keene, one of the owners of The Sheepshead Bay Racetrack exited his office. Racer’s jaw almost hit the floor as Spot shook hands with the man introducing them both as Sean and Anthony.

 

By the time Race had managed to squeak out a “Hello sir.” Sean and the man were already deep in conversation. He was more than content to watch the conversation unfold gaping as Spot’s hands spoke for the both of them. He hadn’t even noticed when the conversation had turned to him.

“So, would you be interested in meeting them?” Mister Keene asked smiling kindly at the boy.

 

Racer cocked his head the words and signs still not registering in his brain all he could let out was a confused “Huh?”

 

 _“Answer him. You want to meet the horses?_ ” Spot flashed trying to help him have a semblance of composure.

 

Racer nodded numbly not sure how to form the words.

 

The stables stunk to high heavens. A mix of horse shit, hay and sweat assaulted their noses as they entered. Nevertheless Racer was starstruck. “There she is Spottie.” He whispered tugging at the other boys sleeve.

 

Spot glanced around looking for the woman he was talking about when his eyes landed on a black horse. “He looks nice.” Spot commented earning him a slap on the arm.

 

Racer turned on him a look a disgust in his eyes, “ _She_ ,” he emphasized, “Is not just nice. She is a marvel.” His eyes twinkled taking her in from a distance, respecting her personal space. “Miss Imp, woah Spottie I’d bet everything I ever owned on her.”

 

He squinted trying to see in the animal what Race did but all he saw was a large black beast. “ _Well don’t be shy go say hello._ ” Spot chuckled his hands playfully shoving him to punctuate his sentence.

 

Racer inched forward ever so slowly. “Hello ma’am.” He started holding out a hand to be sniffed. “Oh you’se a beauty aren’t ya.” He muttered stroking her nose, he leaned forward and placed a kiss on the velvet soft skin.

 

Spot turned away shrugging to the man in confusion.

 

“He has a hell of an eye for horses doesn’t he.” Mister Keene grinned, as the world around Racer and Imp melted away.

 

“I guess so. Sir I gotta be honest they all look the same.” Spot admitted as he watched Racer bounce as he ignored the other stalls.

 

Mister Keene patted the horse firmly on the shoulder, earning a sharp glare from Race that read as a demand to be gentle. “This filly won Horse of The Year last year, she’s better than most of the males out there.”

 

Spot nodded along and continued carrying on polite conversation for the two of them as Racer made a fool of himself.

 

“So,” The man boomed as if raising his voice would get Racer’s attention, Spot smacked him on the shoulder to get him to listen, “Would you like to meet the jockeys?”

 

“Why would I wanna do that? I got my Coal Black Lady right here?” He replied not thinking, a sharp jab to the ribs brought back his manners, “That would be wonderful sir. Thank you.”   

 

After a few half hearted conversations with the jockeys they were lead back through the stables where Race took one last chance to blow his girl a good luck kiss. Spot rolled his eyes knowing he’d be hearing about the animal for the next few years.

 

It took a few moments to settle into their box, their arms heavy with popcorn and sweets. Racer had just stopped fidgeting when a young man tapped Spot on the shoulder whispering something in his ear. Spot grabbed Racer’s wrist with a sharp wave of  “ _Come on_.” That held no room for argument.

 

“Where are we going,” He whined trying to see the track through the stands, “We’se gonna miss the race!”

 

Spot silenced him with a half hearted glare and a mischievous smile. “ _We won’t I promise._ ”

 

The track came into view in front of them, as Mister Keene beamed at the boys. “Gentlemen,” He greeted them warmly, “I was curious my boy if you would be so kind as to start off the season for us? I hear your name has something to do with my pistol?” Spot smiled ear to ear as he interpreted everything the man said to Racer. He adjusted the gun in Racer’s hand, helping as he aimed it at the sky. “On three,” The man instructed counting out on his fingers for him to see.

 

His hands shook as he tried committing everything about the moment to memory. One… the clear blue sky above. Two… the horses stomping behind their gates. Three… Spot was there, every moment was perfect with him. BANG! The gun fired in his hand sending a vibration through his body to his very core.

 

Just like that, there was the look in his eyes. The one that Spot would sell his soul for. With the bang Racer’s eyes lit up like fireworks at the feeling, at the sound. And as the horses raced and the people around them screamed, even as their horse, Imp won, that split second flash was hands down the best part of Spot’s day, possibly his life.

 

The day passed by in a blur of betting and eating and betting some more. The curfew bell rang out shortly before they headed for home. All told the bets earned them a whopping ten dollars. Every time Racer tried handing the wad of  bills to Spot he’d push it back at him.

 

“Spottie I can’t take your winnings.” He whined as they walked home sharing a corndog.

 

Spot sighed in exasperation this was easily the fifth time since they’d left the races that they’d had this argument. Spot ran his fingers through his hair. “ _I’ll tell you what I’ll take back my two we split the rest 50:50 deal?_ ”

 

“But-”

 

“N _o buts I won two bets an’ I’m gonna do what I want with the second._ ” Spot snipped taking another bite, the mustard sticking to his lip.

 

“What are you talking about?” Race grinned, wiping the mustard off with his thumb.

 

“ _I bet on you_.” Spot offered as a half hearted explanation

  
“Against who when?” Race stopped instantly turning to face him.

  
“ _That one night? When you scared me half to death_?” Spot tried.

 

“I don’t remember.”

 

“ _Of course you don't remember you were trying your best to die on us_.” Spot shuddered at the memory of finding him unconscious on the couch in the middle of the night, just when they had been foolish enough to think he was in the clear. His lung collapsed and ashen grey skin, he shook his head again trying to erase the memory.

 

“I’ll try harder next time if it gets me corndogs.” Race teased noting the stress on his face.

 

“Don’t you dare.” Spot snapped the words coming with more force than he intended, he couldn’t go through that, not again, not ever.

  
They continued walking in relative silence passing their snacks back and forth between them as they neared the lodgings, “Who’d you bet against?” Racer asked, his tone for the first time in a long time was serious.

 

The answer sent a chill up his spine, it was so long tucked away with all the other demons in his mind. He shook his head, not wanting to explain, not wanting to remember, “I bet against every fiber of my being that told me to say goodbye to you just… just in case-” He couldn’t speak the words ‘in case you died.’

  
Racer cupped his face lifting it to look at him, mostly healthy, entirely happy, perfectly a-okay. He pressed their lips together before whispering “It’s okay Spottie. Lookit I’m here I’m fine.”

  
Spot pulled back, now wasn’t the time for mourning the past it was for living in the present “Anyway I was right. And here you are right as rain. “ He tried quickly changing the subject. “The ponies were on me today tomorrow you can pay for em deal?”

  
“We’se coming back tomorrow?” Racer asked brightly, as he remembered Crutchie’s comment about deserving a few days off.

  
“Nah we’re going to Coney but I bet my hat my horse’ll smoke yours on The Steeplechase,” Spot teased smacking Racer’s behind with his hat curled in his hand.

  
“I always do look so good in your hat.”

 

Spot let out a bark of laughter taking Racer’s hand in his but before he could respond a voice rang out from behind them.

“Hey what are you two doing?” The booming voice bounced through the streets making the hair on the back of his neck stand straight.

 

A quick glance told him everything, the batton, the hat, the gritty voice all clicked. A bull.

 

“ _Listen up, there’s a cop about 100 yards back, when we make it to the next corner we’re making a break for it. Understand?_ ” Spot’s hands were quick, small, almost unreadable.  

 

His stomach coiled before giving half a nod as they picked up the pace. Racer watched Spot’s hands as they approached their turn “ _Three_ …” Spot’s head snapped up as the man called for them again, forgetting their countdown he took Racer’s hand and took off like a shot. Up an alley over a fence down another as the man pursued them. The alleyways were a maze that the two gutter rats knew all too well. Spot split his attention between listening to the man’s unrelenting demands to stop and the sharp whistling breaths that were coming from Racer.

 

After a few minutes of their impromptu game of Cat and Mouse, Racer began slowing behind him. In a split second decision Spot decided on their final stop. The alley was dark, it was easily ten blocks from where they started. It was far enough. Propping Racer up against the wall, he did another check to see just how much distance they were able to put between themselves and the cop.

 

“ _Hey buddy, hey just focus on me okay_.” Spot signed his hand’s intertwined with Racer’s. He stopped trying to communicate and settled for gently rubbing his knuckles up and down his chest. Anything to stop the sharp whistles coming from his friend.

 

Then the most beautiful sound broke through his choking gasps, a chuckle.

 

Spot began tapping at his face to get his eyes, the blue muted to a dull grey in the darkness. The chuckle transformed slowly and clearly into laughter, “Shh shh,” Spot couldn’t help but grin as he brought his finger to Racer’s lips. Another airy laugh escaped around his finger.

 

The night around them seemed to have quieted down, no more heavy footsteps or barking demands from the officer surrounded them. Spot took a moment to glance out to the street, their breakaway had them only a minutes walk away from the Manhattan lodgings.

 

“We gotta get you home, I think the coast is clear.”

 

“Or.” Racer started as his breaths only just began to slow, “We could… stay.” He pulled Spot in crushing their lips together in an adrenaline fueled kiss that was broken apart too quickly with another sharp inhale.

 

“ _Easy_.” Spot soothed as they both moved to sit on the ground.

 

“Crutchie can handle them for a little while longer,.” He promised another giggle escaping as Spot leaned in closer.

  
Spot placed a kiss to his jaw slowly working his way to his lips. “ _Just an hour_.” He conceded as the perfect day faded into a perfect night.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wasn't entirely pleased where I ended it last time so I wrote this. Please let me know what you think. It was purely self indulgent and my kids needed a break. Please let me know what you think if you successfully made it through this 7,077 word chapter. Kudos and comments make my day!


End file.
